


Community College Blows

by Loftec



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Homophobic Language, Humor, M/M, Rating May Change, Romance, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:11:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3063995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loftec/pseuds/Loftec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Note from loftec:</p><p>I have officially taken over this fic from the original author with the intention to eventually finish it in line with their original vision. It may, however, be a while. I'm most likely going to focus on finishing some of my own WIP:s before this one. Until then, please enjoy the first part of this story and rest assured that one day it will be updated!</p><p>//</p><p>Mickey was about 10 minutes in on his first community college class when he started to regret the whole thing.</p><p>"Yeah, I haven't actually introduced myself yet." Ian said and stretched out his hand. Mickey thought about walking away. He really did. Hi did not need this, a too pretty boy sitting in the chair next to him every day was bad enough. But this? Talking? Socializing? Nuh-uh. But still, he reached his hand out.</p><p>"Mickey Milkovich."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part one: chapter 1

Mickey was about 10 minutes into his first community college class when he started regretting the whole thing. Though he’d never been much of a reader he had still thought that English would be one of his easier classes, but as he listened to the graying teacher he realized that even if it would not prove intellectually challenging it would certainly be mentally challenging. There was no way Mickey was gonna make it through an entire semester stuck in a room so depressingly yellow that it made him think he was in a hospital waiting room after the doctor tells you your nana didn’t make it rather than in a classroom. It was also worrisome to him that the teacher, who looked like he’d been left in a closet gathering dust since 1973, actually looked happy when he told them that they would be spending four whole weeks covering Shakespeare. No, it would end in murder or not at all. It was all Mandys fault, he contemplated from his seat i the back of the classroom. It was basically all she’d talked about ever since he’d gotten his GED, and when she realized that he wasn’t gonna do shit about it other than flip her off she’d sent in his application herself. Who in their right mind would do that?

So now here he was, grumpily putting down the date when their first assignment was do in the notebook Mandy had given him. When he’d tried to refuse it she had just stared him down and said “You can’t take notes on your hand in college. You can't be the weirdo with 'fuck u-up' on his knuckles and algorithms on his palms.” And that had been that.

After another 10 minutes had gone by the door cracked open. Mickey couldn’t see the newcomer since the door blocked his view but he was greatly thankful for the interruption of the painfully long, heart felt speech about the teachers constant amazement of human language and how authors with just their words could create worlds, give birth to the devil and then crush him within the spines of a good novel.

“This might be just a community collage, but we still value punctuality Mr..?” Mr. Collins told the person at the door. Was his name Collins? Mickey wasn’t sure.

“Gallagher,” a voice came from behind the door. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” Mickey, who was doodling aimlessly in his notebook didn’t look up to inspect the man until he came into Mickey's line of sight as he slid into the seat right next to his. He glanced up to his left and was abruptly awakened from the drowsy state Mr. Collins’ monolog had put him in as he took in how aggressively hot the man sitting next to him was. He had bright red hair and a jaw line stronger than Mickey would have thought possible. While Mickey, not glancing so much as starring now, tried to will himself to close his close his mouth and turn away from this ginger Adonis who was close enough to touch, the man in question turned in his chair and caught Mickey's eyes.

“Hey,” he mouthed at Mickey who quickly put his tongue back where it belonged and rushed to compose a more neutral facial expression. The friendly smile the redhead was sporting slowly turned into a smirk as he watched Mickey struggle. His cockiness, while attractive, reminded Mickey that he normally wore a scowl on his face at all times to keep inviting smiles like Gallagher’s at bay.

“Hey,” he muttered back and turned to face Mr. Manchester Pants again only to a few seconds later hear the the redhead whisper in his ear.

“So, what did I miss?” Mickey turned back slightly, scowl now firmly in place. The other man was so close Mickey could feel his breath on his neck. He smelled like mint covered in smoke. Mickey could see every freckle on him, stretching from his face down his neck and clavicles visible under Gallagher’s shirt with two buttons unbuttoned.

“Shakespeare had two sisters named Joan and the teacher’s a fag. Now back the fuck up.” Mickey raised his eyebrows pointedly at the man. It bothered him that Gallagher’s smile didn’t fade at his words. He did move out of Mickey’s personal space but the smile might have gotten even wider.

The rest of the class turned into a test of willpower. Mickey’s usual way of getting out of unwanted situations was to throw a punch or walk away but as neither option was gonna help him much this time Mickey simply squared his feet under his desk, his chin straight as an arrow towards the front of the room and he did not move an inch from that position other than to make the occasional scribble in his notebook for the remaining 30 minutes.

When the class ended Mickey gathered his things and stuffed them in his backpack and got to his feet. He knew he had not succeeded in scarring the redhead off but he hoped the man would let him to leave without any talking or god forbid, _smiling_. He was almost at the door and felt pleased to not have made too much of a fool of himself, so he allowed himself one last glance. Gallagher was standing a few feet behind him, looking trapped as Mr. Collins chatted enthusiastically at him. He was tall, Mickey noted, of fucking course he was tall. As a gay man with one foot still inside the closet Mickey enjoyed watching a good looking man from afar. But this level of attractiveness was downright rude. With a huff, he turned and walked away, missing how the redhead’s eyes followed him all the way out the door.

A couple of hours later Mickey was standing outside the entrance, smoking a cigarette like it was gonna solve world hunger. College sucked. The only thing worse than the peppy Mr. Collins was all the other half alive half zombie teachers he had in his other classes. And the students, Jesus Christ, were all so eager to learn. Mickey had committed imaginary murders all morning. And the red head’s face kept popping up in his mind. Those green eyes and red lips that Mickey maybe wouldn’t mind so much having pressed to his skin.

“Hey.”

The voice came from behind him. A voice he now recognized. He looked back and saw the redhead and a tall good looking girl coming through the doors. She had her arm around him and a smile on her face. Mickey wasn’t sure if he felt relived or disappointed at the sight. Maybe he’d just read Gallagher wrong. Maybe his smile always made him look as if he was on the fucking prowl. The pair came to a halt next to him.

“Bad day?” Gallagher nodded at the cigarette stubs spread out at Mickey feet.

Mickey nodded, “You could say that.” He didn’t say anything more and neither did Gallagher who was pulling out a pack of his own, patting up and down his body with one hand, looking for a lighter Mickey assumed. It was the girl who took it upon her to get a conversation going.

“I’m Fiona, Ian's sister.” She stretched her hand out to Mickey who shook it warily, processing the new information. Ian. Ian Gallagher. Ian Gallagher and his sister, not girlfriend.

“Yeah, I haven’t actually introduced myself yet,” Ian said and stretched out his hand to Mickey with an easy smile on his lips.

Mickey thought about walking away. He did. He didn't need this, a too pretty boy in the chair next to him every day was bad enough. But this? Talking to him? Socializing? Nuh-uh. But still, he reached his hand out.

“Mickey Milkovich.”

  
“How are you liking college so far?” Girl-Gallagher asked and leaned forward to light her cigarette on the lighter in her brothers’ hand. 

  
“It’s not gonna kill me I suppose,” Mickey mused, “but two years seems like a fucking long time to spend here.”  
  
  
“You’re lucky then, it’s gonna take me four years before I’m done - at least.”

Mickey looked at her quizzically, he understood better than anyone that people in community college came from all sorts of fucked up situations but the girl came across as relatively clever.

  
“Fiona’s gonna do night classes,” Ian answered Mickey unspoken question, “someone’s gotta put food on the table.”  
  
  
“Yeah, I’m only here today to register and for emotional support.” She smiled at her brother and ruffled his hair.

Gallagher swatted her hand away and put out his cigarette. “Who fucking asked you? I’m going inside,” he turned on his heal and walked back towards the doors. His sister quickly put out her cigarette too and went after him.

When Ian reached the door he threw that same smile Mickey’d seen in class back at him and called out, “See you around, Mickey!”

Mickey watch the siblings disappear and prayed that Gallagher’s smile would stop making Mickey feel as if he’d been roofied. Mickey only had one class left, he considered cutting, but then a message from the almighty and all-knowing Mandy Milkovich announced itself with a buzzing from his pocket.

**Still there? You better fucking go today.**

_**Alright, calm your tits. Still here.** _

As much complaining as he’d done and would no doubt continue to do for this whole experience, Mickey actually really didn’t want to fail at this. With his dad in the big house for what seemed like at least a few years this time and with most of his siblings and cousins in there with him – although they’re sentences were much shorter, the Milkovich business was down, if only temporary. Mickey had taken care of the last few collections and then called it quits. Let the chips fall where they may. Hopefully one of those chips would be a new place for him to move his ass to before his dad got out and realized no one has been taking care of the business he cherished more than his own children.  
     But Mickey was doing alright, he managed to keep the remaining family afloat. He’d managed to get a job as a security guard at a night club on the Northside called The Illusion. He had had to convince the manager that he could indeed put the fear of god in people despite his small size to get it but that was the kind of test Mickey knew how to pass. Then hell must have frozen over because he got promoted. Something that was completely unheard of as far as the Milkovich family’s work experiences went. It was his aggressive efficiency that had landed him the position of managing the clubs security team as well as the team over at their sister club The Fairytale, a gay club for Chicagos exhibitionists. It had been after this that Mandy decided to pin all her hopes and dreams on her brother, because apparently a decent paying job and no ongoing drug deals was enough to make Mickey the golden boy of the Southside. So now here he was, in a building that would suck the life out of him just as much as it sucked the money out of his wallet. But he would not fail. This was his one chance to get away, and he wasn’t gonna throw it away.

\----

The first week was hard on him, he tried to force himself into a routine of getting up early in the mornings and then get through the days without alcohol or fist fights. The fact that he was so goddamn busy he hardly had time to take a shit made that part easier, but between his schoolwork and his job at the club he was stretched thin and desperate for some kind of release. He had realized that with his brothers and cousins gone, he didn’t really have any friends. His phone had stopped blowing up the minute he’d stopped selling drugs. There was Mandy of course, she would smack him straight to the afterlife if he even thought about jumping ship but she let him moan and whine as much as he liked as long as it didn’t interfere with his schoolwork.

When Friday finally came the only thing Mickey felt like doing was go home and lie around in his sweats with a pile of snicker bars next to him for the whole weekend, but no, he had a shift at the Fairytale later. So there was only time for him to wolf down a sandwich, shower, and then he was off again. He spent the first few hours scheduling for the next month and fighting with the manager about getting a few extra bodies in for Halloween. The Fairytale arranges the craziest halloween party imaginable. The place turns into a gore loving fetishist’s wet dream. They put their dancers in cages representing the seven deadly sins where everything but actual fucking went on. It attracted an interesting crowd to say the least.

“We can’t cover the doors, the cages and the upstairs dance floor with only five guys. I want _at least_ two more guys on duty for that freak show. And not those scrawny dudes you got me last time. I need muscle,” Mickey demanded and walked away. He had quickly learned that the The Fairytale’s manager had thing for him as well as a major kink for being submissive and the more Mickey bossed him around and simply took what he needed, the more the other man let him.

Since he’d started working at the sister club he’d been forced to get used to the gay scene quickly. Not as a member of it but just being around it without bashing in the heads of the guys that checked him out when he manned the door or those who tried to get out of being booted by drunkenly flirt with him. And he did okay with it most of the time. Ever since he had come out to Mandy a while back things felt more bearable. With his dad in jail he’d even brought a few guys home with him. A couple of one night stands and one of the security guys from the club with whom he’d actually hooked up with a few times. Nothing serious of course, Mickey Milkovich still didn’t do relationships, but he didn’t feel like he was signing his own death sentence every time he let some guy touch him anymore. His job had done more for him than just allowing him to pay the bills.

He left the club at 2 am and listened to some obnoxious radio show where they played terrible teen pop on his way home to keep himself from slipping into a coma on the L. He got home to a mercifully quiet house. He used the last of his energy trying to figure out why Karen Jackson was fast asleep next to Mandy on their couch, but when nothing came to mind, he filed it away for another day and then hurried to his bed where he promptly passed out.

On Saturday, Mandy made them some pasta before it was time for Mickey to head to the club. The Milkoviches had never really had family dinners and now the two siblings had so different schedules they hardly saw each other at all, but with their father gone and the years of teenage drama behind them, Mickey and Mandy had realized that they actually could have a pretty good time with each other.

“So, you wanna tell me how Karen Jackson ended up on our couch yesterday?” Mickey said through a mouthful of pasta.

Mandy threw him a warning look, like she already knew he wouldn’t approve. “She got a job at The Waffle House too. She had her first day last week,” she said and chewed thoughtfully, “You know, I used to really hate her in high school because we dated the same guy but she’s so much fun.”

“I thought her only merit was screwing more than one guy at once,” Mickey said and not for the first time, questioned Mandy’s taste in friends. Karen had gone out with basically all of his brothers and friends but he’d never heard anything funny or intelligent from her.

“I’m serious! Though I’m surprised you have such a set opinion of her, it’s not like you ever had any interest.”

“Just because I didn’t wanna get into her pants doesn’t mean I didn’t see her fuck around with everyone else,” Mickey countered. This didn’t bode well. If Mandy bothered to defend Karen she would definitely not go away any time soon. This had always been a problem for Mandy, she got attached to anyone who was nice to her. Something that had ironically lead to her having a number of not nice at all boyfriends. Mickey had lost count of the times he’d had to chase away people for trying to take advantage of her, both friends and boyfriends. But it had been a while now, Mandy had grown up a lot these last few years, just like Mickey himself.

“Don’t be such a hypocrite,” Mandy rallied on, “like I haven’t seen the little parade of guys coming around here the last few months.” Mandy looked equally angry and amused but there was no way she was backing down.

“That’s different,” Mickey offered lamely, realizing he didn’t have much of a defense.

“How? Because she’s a girl?” Mandy was almost yelling now. “For shame, Mickey! For shame!”

“Whatever,” Mickey decided it was time to move his ass away from this argument. He put his bowl in the dishwasher. On his way to the hallway he glanced back at Mandy, who still sat at the table, her arms raised in a clear 'I win' pose.

“I’m going to work,” he called as he opened the door.

“Later loser!” She called back.

He slammed the door behind him.

\---

He loved working weekdays because the club wasn’t as busy then, but now with school he had to mainly work weekends because otherwise he would fall asleep in class every single day instead of just once or twice a week. Saturdays were always packed. It was 6 hours of loud music, breaking up fight and picking up drunk people off the floor, none of which helped Mickey keep his mood up, but the good part was that the more he showed his frustration the less trouble the patrons gave him.

At the end of his shift he headed over to The Fairytale to talk to the guys there about their schedules for next week. They were always bitching about the late hours and trying to get Mickey to put someone else on the late shifts, but what the hell had they expected working at a night club? He sat in the locker room in the back listening to José making his case about having a baby at home and shouldn’t he get of work before Gary who usually goes clubbing himself after his shifts when the door opened and a redhead in the clubs standard golden booty shorts came in.

Holy shit. It was Ian Gallagher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first multi-chap fic, so please be patient with me :)


	2. Part one: chapter 2

It was like a repeat of the first time Mickey had set eyes on him only worse. Those shorts didn’t leave much to the imagination and his whole body was shimmering of sweat and body glitter. The freckles Mickey had spent every day in school trying to glance discretely at turned out to trail all the way down the gingers chest – leading Mickey’s eyes to the thin string of hair coming up out of the golden shorts.

It was downright rude, offensive even!

They’d had a few more interactions during their first week. Ian had kept his promise to their teacher and had been on time for the class every day, but he was also never early. He always breezed in the last minute with a cheeky grin and a healthy glow around him, like he’d been up since five working out and meditating. Mickey’s determination to not give the man the time of day lasted until Wednesday. It would have been easy to just ignore Gallagher and mind his own business if the red-head hadn’t been so damn chatty. He happily babbled away about his other classes and his seemingly abundant siblings and The White Sox season and so on and on. He didn’t appear to mind that Mickey didn’t respond more than the occasional polite nod or agreeing grunt. On Wednesday he caved in. Gallagher had looked thoroughly surprised when Mickey all of the sudden started asking follow-up questions. So since then he'd been getting a little more information on all things Ian Gallagher every day without having to offer too much in return. They had established that they were both from the Southside and had attended the same High School, but since Mickey was a year older and had honestly not spent much time there anyway their paths had never crossed. Other than that, Mickey managed to keep the focus on Ian. But despite all of Ian's chattering, his place of employment had never come up.

One big difference from the first time Mickey had been taken by surprise by the sight of Ian Gallagher and this time, was that Ian looked just shocked as Mickey. He even looked a tiny bit embarrassed. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his arms. He shifted them from the sides of his body to move one hand up to rub at the back of his neck, and then he crossed both arms in front of his body. For a moment nobody said anything. Ian starred at Mickey and Mickey starred at Ian and José looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out why the two young men had such an extreme reaction to seeing each other.

It was José who tentatively broke the silence.

“So.. Uuhhh...” he shifted his eyes back and forth between them again, hoping that that was all the encouragement the other men would need to snap out of whatever spell they were under.

“What are you doing here?” Mickey sputtered out, despite Ian’s telling outfit. His voice came out higher than usual and he felt a blush spread over his cheeks. He cleared his throat in an attempt to calm himself down.

Ian had apparently gotten over his initial awkwardness. “I work here. What are you doing here?” He now seemed to quite enjoy Mickey’s bashful expression.

“ _I_ work here,”

At this point José had realized that this, whatever _this_ was, might take a while and he had a screaming baby to get home to.

“Mickey. About next week?”

Mickey turned startled to his co-worker, “Yeah, sure. Whatever,” he said, not sounding very sure at all. “You can go.”

José counted his luck, grabbed his coat, and ran for the door before Mickey realized his mistake.

Ian opened his locker and got his phone out, he glanced down at Mickey from behind the screen. “So, security I’m guessing?” He smiled and Mickey could swear that there was more power in that smile than in a nuclear bomb, destined for irreversible destruction.

“Yeah, and I’ve spent enough time on this dance floor to make it weird that I’ve never seen you here before,” Mickey questioned, ignoring the way Ian’s smile widened when he mentioned himself on the dance floor. He was just pleased that he no longer sounded like a 12 year old talking to a hot substitute teacher. “You new or something?”

Ian shrugged his shoulders. “Yes and no, I guess. I used to work here back in my wild teenage years, but I thought it would be good to get some extra money coming in if I’m gonna spend two years sitting on my ass in the second worst community college of the city.”

“You trying to tell me we are not attending the worst community college in the entire universe? Yesterday a girl asked if HTML was the same in every language and the teacher had to go on Wikipedia.”

Ian laughed, “Cross my heart.” He put his phone back and sat down on the bench opposed to Mickey. “But tell me, how does a tattooed thug like you land a job as head of security at a gay club?”

“Please, the wife beater and knuckle tattoo-look is the only one that works in the security biz,” Mickey scoffed, “and I prefer the title Security Overlord, thank you. I’m mostly over at The Illusion.”

“But you’re so short!”

“You have obviously never seen my withering stare,” Mickey said, pleased by how easy it was to banter with Ian, it was almost enough to distract him from Ians sparkling torso, “it would scare the robe off of Voldemort.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw it at least twice during our first class together, it didn’t really do anything for me,” Ian shot back, “at least not the way you intended it too,” he fixed Mickey with a stare and sucked his lower lip into his mouth.

There was really nothing in Mickey's life that could have prepared him for Ian Gallagher. He was used to working in the dark. Sending and receiving discrete signals, and if anyone disregarded the unspoken rules he cut them off without exception.

Until now apparently.

This guy was about as discrete as hard dick to the ass, and there was not a single cell in Mickey’s whole body that wanted to say no. The red headed man had already worked himself into Mickey’s masturbation routine. Images of Ian’s smile and collarbone and the way he sometimes stretched in class so that his shirt rode up his stomach haunted him every night. His pecks, abs, impressive bulge and that fucking lip between his teeth would without a doubt join in after this.

Ian didn’t have the chance to realize just how much the sight of him sucking on his own lip had made Mickey loose grip on the conversation because at that moment the door bust open and the manager stuck his head through the doorway.

“Clayton! I’ve got a whole crowd of rich homos out here just waiting to stick their pensions down your shorts. So get your ass out there.” He motioned his finger towards in the general direction of the dance floor.

He then turned to Mickey, his whole demeanor changing. “Hey, I didn’t know you were here.” He looked like puppy hoping for a treat. “I took care of Halloween for you, I got you five extra guys the whole weekend and one is staying on permanently. If you’d come to my office we cou-”

“Actually, I was just heading out, but I’m gonna need them in a few days before so they can get to know the place.”

“Oh, alright. I’ll get right on that then,” he smiled at Mickey and backed out of the room. “Later, Mick.. Mickey.”

The only thing missing was a wagging tail.

“Nicely played,” Ian commented after the door had closed, looking impressed, “you sure know how to work a guy.”

Mickey ignored him. “Clayton?” It seemed like a strange choice of stage name. It was pretty low on sex appeal.

“Yeah, that.” He looked a little embarrassed. “Maybe I didn’t mention that the last time I worked here I was only seventeen, so I called myself Clayton and when I came back I didn’t wanna draw attention to the fact that they had employed a minor with a fake identity.” 

“Ah.”

Mickey would definitely never admit that he felt a little tingle somewhere behind his ribs at how easily Ian confided in him.

“I trust you can keep a secret?”

“Yeah.” He got another smile at that.

“Thanks, I better get back.”

Mickey watched Ian get up and walk to the door, noting that the guy’s back was pretty hot too. Ian opened the door and took a step out but then he stopped himself, turning halfway back towards Mickey.

“Later, Mick,” his voice was low and his eyes dark.

Then he winked – actually winked – and walked away.

—

When he got home it was almost four in the morning but Mickey had never felt more energetic. He’s cheeks had started acing halfway home because he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. He got into bed, still all smiley and half hard and decided that tonight he wasn’t gonna fight the way his mind went straight to for Ian when Mickey wasn’t actively thinking about something else. He listened for any signs of activity in the house, but luckily all he heard was Mandy snoring through the wall. He stretched for the lube and his Ben-Wa beads in his drawer.

He thought about the way Ian openly flirted with him any chance he got. The way his voice sounded when he said Mickey’s name. Specially the way it had sounded tonight.

 _Later, Mick_.

Like a promise.

He thought about the way his voice would sound growling against his ear. How it would feel if he put those lips on Mickey’s neck, if he dragged his nails down Mickey’s back. Mickey stroked himself slowly, firmly and imagined that it was Ian’s hands instead of his own. Mickey wanted the other man to own him, to mark him with his lips and chain him with words growled in his ear between moans of pleasure. He thought about sucking Ian’s cock, taking as much of him as he could in his mouth while running his hands up and down his chest, teasing his nipples until the only words Ian remembered how to say were Mickey’s name and ' _more'_.

Mickey lubed up the beads as well as his fingers and started stretching his hole thinking about Ian’s abs. He thought about running his tongue over them, how they would taste like sweat and Ian. He pushed the next finger in and thought about Ian pinning him down, straddling him and forcing him to surrender himself completely to the other man. Mickey hit his prostate and thought about kissing the ginger. About them tasting each other, moaning into the other’s mouth.

He pushed the Ben-Wa beads in thinking about Ian’s full weight on him, pressing him down, fucking him hard and fast till they were both coming. He thought about the way it would feel when Ian came in his ass.

Mickey pulled the beads out slowly and rubbed himself faster wishing that Ian was there to see him and stoke him through his orgasm.

Afterwards, Mickey toweled himself off and let the memory of Ian’s smile fill his mind. He fell asleep almost instantly.

—

Sunday dragged itself by. He studied for a few hours until Mandy dragged him with her to go thrift store shopping before she had to go to work. He’d never been able to figure out why she wanted him with her when she went shopping. It’s not like she ever let him comment on any of the things she bought. Admittedly, he said that she looked like a prostitute almost every time he voiced his opinion on her clothes, but then she could just go alone or with one of her friends. They all dressed like prostitutes.

After he had come out to her, she had used their alone time to interrogate him about guys. How many had there been, had anyone been serious, does he think size matters etc. She didn’t keep at it for long though. She never got more out of him more then that he was happy as long as he got to come. Maybe she’d given up all hopes on him and her gossiping about crushes and feelings. Maybe she thought he wasn’t capable of any of that. After all, it is what he had thought up until very recently. He had thought love and all that was something that just wasn’t gonna come his way, and he had been glad for it. It only ever seemed to give people problems, and for a gay thug on the Southside, problems like that could be deadly.

So now when Mickey actually did have all kinds of feelings that he didn’t know what to make of and he sort of wanted Mandy to ask him about it, she of course said nothing. Mickey felt like he might be in danger of exploding it he didn’t let some of it out. She didn’t even mention any boy trouble of her own even though she always seemed to have them.

“Mandy, how’s it going with that dude.. Jacob? Jake? What’s-his-face?”

“He’s gone. Way, way gone.” She shuddered a little. “I dumped him a few day ago. You know he tried to hit me?”

“He did what?!” Mickey shouted, they got a few glares from their fellow shoppers. “Why the fuck haven’t you said anything?”

She shrugged, “He was drunk so he missed and then he passed out. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Well, he was a fucking idiot, I’ll bash his head in if you want me to,” he told her, and he would. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken a baseball bat to one of Mandy’s boyfriends.

“No need, I’m thinking of going celibate for a while,” she pondered, “You know, get some me-time.”

Mickey doubted that very much but still played along. “Please do, one of these days your relationship drama’s gonna give me a hernia.”

She gave him the finger but said nothing. She turned away from him and picked up a sweater that looked like it had belonged to a homeless Amish person, inspecting it closely before putting it on her reject pile. 

Mickey looked cautiously around him and thought, _what the hell_ , and dived in.

“So, there’s this guy from college who apparently works as a dancer at the club.” He picked up a child sized pink t-shirt featuring Rapunzel and tried to look like he was just casually telling his sister about a weird but non-important coincidence. 

Mandy was having none of it. She whipped around, an enormous grey hoodie in hand, eyes twice their normal size. 

“A guy you know from college is working as a dancer at the club?” She echoed, looking slightly deranged. 

“Yes, that’s what I fucking said, you gone deaf?” Mickey grumbled. He wished she would get her freak out over as quick as possible so they could get to the important issue at hand.

“At which club?” She asked, although of course she already knew what the answer was gonna be.

Mickey sighed and hung his head, still not meeting her eye.

“The Fairytale.” 

“Oh my god!” She sing-songed, “Oh. My. God. You like someone. You like a dancer. Have you fucked him yet? Have you told him?” She sounded like she had accidentally opened Pandora’s box and needed to get all her questions out before it slammed shut again. 

Mickey let out a groan. “I hate you. You are the worst. Maybe, no, and no. And keep your fucking voice down.”

He pried the hoodie out of her hands and started ushering her towards the exit. When they were out on the street again Mickey immediately took out a cigarette and lit it. Then he proceeded to blow smoke all over Mandy and her dazed expression. 

“Could you not be a 12 year old about this?” 

She turned her eyes on him and stared at him for a moment. Then she did something unusual for the Milkovich siblings; she put her hand on his cheek.

“You like this guy?” 

He broke their eye contact and looked down at his shoes for a second. There was really no going back after this. He looked back up and gave her a small nod. 

She smiled brightly at him. “Okay then, so what are you gonna do about it?”

\--- 

Monday came and Mickey nervously walked up and down the halls after his morning class, peering his head around corners looking for Ian’s green eyes. Mandy had made step one sound easy. She’d said that he only had to flirt back. Or even better - flirt first. 

She had gently pointed out to him that Ian might just have a flirtatious and open personality, and that it doesn’t necessarily have to mean anything. Mickey had to clearly show interest and see how the other man responded then. 

Monday morning she had dressed him in a dark blue button up shirt, which apparently showed off his eyes and reminded him to smile. Mickey was shoved out their front door feeling like he was on his way to pick up his prom date. 

It was in the library Mickey spotted him. He had his nose in a thick book, marker pen in hand, notebooks and textbooks were scattered all around him. He had a take-a-way coffee cup and an energy drink next to him. He was the very picture of concentration.

Even if he would happen to look up from his book he wouldn’t be able to see Mickey where he stood, hiding behind a bookshelf like a creep. He held himself differently when he thought no one could see him. He looked less like the easy going charm troll Mickey had gotten used to and more like Mickey himself and the rest of students in their school. He looked stressed and overwhelmed. Mickey still thought he looked hot as hell though. 

He was going in. 

He stepped out from behind the bookshelf and threw himself into the chair opposite of Ian’s. 

“I hope that’s not a library book that you’re marking?” He said in what he hoped was a casual voice and he tried a smile. “Or else the librarian will scold you. And you know there’s nothing more terrifying than an angry librarian.”

Ian looked up, a smirk slowly falling in place. “Oh I know, I was banned from the school library in high school after Mrs. Petrov walked in on Roger Spikey giving me a hummer in the history section.” 

Mickey felt his chin drop and it seemed as if there were no end to the things about Ian Gallagher that that made him have that reaction. “Shit, I didn’t even know our school had a library. I’m surprised you didn’t expelled for that.”

“Turns out she didn’t mind a boy sucking another boy’s dick as much as she minded that we did it where the books could see us.”

“Huh...” Mickey always had mixed feeling when he realized that the people in his surrounding were less homophobic then he’d thought. It made his breathing easier but it also made him feel like he had missed out. Every time it happened his anger for his father got stronger, he felt like the darkness he dad had put inside Mickey himself was never completely gonna go away. 

“How was the rest of your weekend?” Ian’s voice brought him back to the present and he quickly put the smile back on as he remembered his mission. 

“It was alright, my sister made me go thrift store shopping.” 

“You know, I’ve thought about it and I think I remember her from high school,” Ian said thoughtfully, tapping his pen on his notebook, “black hair, face like she could kill you with her bare hands you if you got on her bad side but still sweet looking?”

Mickey chuckled at that, he though Mandy would be proud of that description. 

“Yeah, that’s Mandy alright.” 

“Did you score anything good on your shopping trip? A nice sweater vest? A funky smelling _I heart NY_ -tee perhaps?”

“Well, I was hoping to find a pair of those gold short like you guys wear at the club but no such luck.” He glanced at Ian through his eyelashes. He knew there was a reason he’d never tried flirting before. It was awkward as hell, his cheeks were burning up and he didn’t know where the hell to put his hands. He thought that it was probably a bad sign that Ian had an endeared look on his face rather than the smirking face of a man who was being successfully hit on.

“You liked what you saw then?” Ian teased quietly.

“Let’s just say you inspired me,” Mickey said and let the words hang in the air, hoping Ian would get that he didn’t mean that he had inspired him to update his wardrobe. And by the way Ian’s eyes widened and how he wet his lips with his tongue – he did.

“Then you’re gonna love what I’m wearing for Halloween.”

Mickey’s mind took a quick detour to some possible images of Ian in slutty Halloween costumes, and it did nothing to help with his already red face. He counted to three in his head and then he said it.

“Would you, maybe, wanna go for coffee? Sometime?”

It wasn’t as confident as Mandy had instructed him to say it but at least he’d gotten the words out. He really hated this nervous person he became as soon as Ian was around. He sat there, his heart slowly moving its way up his throat. He had to force his eyes to stay on Ian’s face and he fight the overpowering urge to just run away from the whole mess.

He wasn’t sure exactly what he had expected Ian to answer. Smirk and say yes? Smirk and say no? Get up and laugh all the way out the library?

What he absolutely had not expected was for Ian to look unsure. Ian’s smile fell away, his eyes were unguarded and he suddenly looked a lot younger.

“Oh, Mickey.. I don’t..” He stammered, sounding like he didn’t really know what he wanted to say.

Mickey quickly jumped to take back every word he had just said. Trying to ignore the way his heart fell all the way to his stomach.

“No, it’s no problem. If you don’t want to. No worries.” He dropped his eyes to his lap where he was wringing his hands nervously. He felt ashamed. He felt sad. Of course Ian said no. Mickey was never gonna be the guy other guys want to date. Mickey was had always been dirt and it had been foolish of him to allow himself to forget it, to think that the other man might actually have wanted Mickey the way Mickey wanted him.

He got up to leave.

“No wait, Mickey.”

Ian’s face showed something Mickey had no idea how to interpret. But his voice sounded apologetic. At this point all Mickey wanted was to go lick his wounds in peace. He might have wanted a date with the guy but he didn’t need him to feel sorry for him.

“I said, it’s alright. See you in class.”

“Mickey! Just listen,” Ian paused, searching for the right words, “I don’t mean this to sound like the biggest cliché in the world but it’s really not you, it’s me.”

Mickey raised his eyebrow at the man, he had to fight hard to keep the casual expression in place.

“Yeah, okay.”

“No, really. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to. It’s just that.. I’m not really dating at the moment. For personal reasons–” Ian stretched across the table and put a warm hand on Mickey’s. “But if I could have I would have said yes,” He squeezed Mickey’s hand a little, “You believe me?”

He didn’t. He guessed Gallagher just wanted to soften the blow a bit.

“Whatever man.” He took his hand out from under Ian’s, he missed the feeling of it immediately, “It’s cool, I’ll see you later.”

He got up and walked away. A minute later he found himself in the nearest empty bathroom. He needed a while to collect himself. In 20 minutes he would have to sit next to Gallagher again. He couldn’t be looking like a sad, lonely wreck then. He splashed his face with cold water. He felt like crying, his eyes were filled with tears but they didn’t fall. He sat on the toilet, face in his hand and tried to get Gallagher out of his mind.

This whole thing had been so fucking dumb. Mickey knew that this is what happened when you allowed yourself to get tangled up with feelings and stupid flirting. He’d never thought he would fall for it it. But he had, and then he’d been enough of a moron that he actually believed that it wouldn’t end like this. With him sitting in a filthy bathroom trying not to cry. It wasn’t even that he was in love with the guy or anything. Sure he was hot and sweet and funny, but he hardly knew him. It had just been so much fun, it had felt easy and natural. For a whole week Mickey had felt like someone who could be desired.

A few minutes later, he splashed his face one more time before he got out of the bathroom. He wasn’t gonna let himself be a baby about this. Time to move the fuck on.

Class was awkward, as expected. He nodded at Gallagher who nodded back. But there was no talking this time. The only sound in the room was Mr. Collins enthusiastic lecture on Elizabethan poetry.

Mickey kept his eyes fixed on the white board the whole class.

He didn’t go home to eat and shower before he headed to the club, he couldn’t bare the thought of telling Mandy about his failure. She called him but he didn’t answer. She could wait. The first thing he did when he got to work was to re-organize the schedule a bit, keeping himself away from the fairytale as much as possible. It was enough that he would have to see Gallagher in school, he didn’t need to see him any more than necessary. He certainly didn’t need to see him half-naked being felt up by old perverts.

That night he took a muscular patron home. They got drunk and Mickey fucked the guy into his mattress. After they were done Mickey kicked him out, not giving a crap that it was the middle of the night and the dude lived all the way across town.

He went to bed not thinking about anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter to be honest, but I hope you liked it. 
> 
> As I am not from the US all my knowledge about community college comes from tv and google. Sorry about any mistakes. 
> 
> And also, I googled "chicago baseball teams" the the white sox (white sox's???) popped up, so if there are any baseball fans reading this, I hope Ian isn't making a fool out of himself by supporting them. :)
> 
> Comments good or bad, are appreciated.


	3. Part one: chapter 3

The next morning Mickey was rudely awakened by Mandy poking him with her perpetually cold hands.

“Mickey? Mickey. Mickey.” 

He felt like shit. His mouth tasted like an ashtray and his head was splitting in pieces. It was the worst day ever and he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.

“Jesus Mandy, cut it out.”

He begrudgingly opened his eyes and grabbed hold of his phone where it lay next to him on his bed and glanced at the time. “You couldn’t have let me sleep until my alarm went off, you bitch?” 

“I have my reasons." Mandy shrugged her shoulders unapologetically and sat herself down on top of his chest, "one, I need to leave in a few minutes and two, I wanted to talk to you before I go and 3. I think you’re gonna need to take  a little extra time in the shower this morning, brother.” She wrinkled her nose, “You both smell and look like you’ve slept in a pool off beer.”

Mickey threw a hand over his eyes and took a few seconds to gather some strength. Then he looked up at her, his withering stare firmly in place.

“Get. The fuck. Off. I got like, two minutes of sleep.” 

Unfortunately for him, Mandy had over two decades of experience in dealing with her ill-tempered brother. She only gave an exasperated sigh and glared back at him.

“I might have been more sympathetic if someone hadn’t woken me up at four in the morning with their very loud sex noises.” 

Mickey gave up, inflating on the bed like a sad balloon the morning after the part, Mandy’s weight on his lungs didn’t exactly help.

“Technically, what’s-his-face made most of the noise.”

At that, Mandy lifted a finger triumphantly, like she had successfully lured him into a trap. 

”Ah, yes. About what’s-his-face,” she lifted her body off Mickey chest and moved back to lean against the wall, leaving her legs sprawled over him, “after I spent a several minutes trying to figure out if what went on in here was sex or torture—which by the way—no sister should ever have to do!” She paused and gave him a pointed look.

“What? He said he liked it rough. I only gave the man what he wanted, it’s not my fault you’re such a light sleeper.”

Mandy added a raised eyebrow to her already judging face.

”Anyway, after that, my mind obviously went to who your shrieking guest was, a mystery you sort of solved for me by the way, when I heard you practically bark at him to get out.”

Mickey moved his sisters legs off him and slowly sat up. He felt as if there where a thousand tiny men playing the bongos inside his head. 

”He was just some dude from the club.” 

He tried to envision the painkillers he would be rewarded with if he made it all the way to the kitchen. He got up, Mandy following right behind him. He silently wondered if this was what it’s like to be really really old. Like you might just collapse at any given second.

”So I take it, it didn’t go so well yesterday?” Mandy asked carefully. Her voice had dropped every hint of humor and when Mickey didn’t answer her, she bravely soldiered on, ”What happened?”

”What do the fuck do you think?” He grunted at her, ”He said no. Life goes on.”

”I’m sorry.”  

”Don’t be. He’s just a guy, and anyone who’s ever been on Grindr knows that there’s plenty more of them.”

Mandy said nothing at that, he guessed it took her all her willpower to let his Grindr comment pass by, though he knew it would come back to bite him in the ass later on. 

Mickey finally reached the sink, grabbing a semi dirty cup and thanked the lords Mandy had already made coffee. After a few minutes of making sad and understanding eyes at him she put her squirrel hat on and got up to go to work.

”Why the fuck would you put that on before you actually get there?” Mickey mocked.

She stretched over the table and twisted one of his nipples painfully between her fingers, ”Asshole,” she muttered, and retaliated before Mickey had time recover from the assault. A minute later the door was slammed shut and Mickey was left to drink his coffee in peace.

——

A few hours later Mickey was leaning against the brick wall of the school building, trying to mentally prepare himself for what would no doubt be a difficult day. He had his lips closed around a cigaret and his eyes closed. Partly because colors hurt his head and the sun felt nice on his face, but also because there was no one in this place that he wanted to see. Especially not a certain redhead. Not that he’d been thinking about him. No, no, no. Not at all. He had very actively not been thinking about him. 

Back in the olden days, before Mickey started toeing the line of a legal way of life, occupying his mind from thinking about hot guys hadn’t been this hard. To be fair, Gallagher was hotter than most, but still. Before, there had always been a constant flow of drugs and alcohol to distract him. Plus, easy, and casual fucks hadn’t been that hard to come by. Once he had learned to read the signs, he had gotten his dick wet on a semi regular basis. Not to mention that the only motivation Mickey had ever needed to stay as far away as possible from gay stuff like boyfriends and dating had been sitting next to him at the breakfast-table all his life. He’d never allowed himself to consider a guy the way he’d considered Ian Gallagher before.

Now everything was a mess. Without his dad and brothers around, and his sister being cooler than a popsicle about the whole thing, he had gotten bold. Much too bold. He watched guys dance around half naked for a living and he’d flirted with cute redheads and he’d gotten rejected after asking said redhead out on a coffee date. What the fuck. 

A few minutes later he’d finished his cigarette and was officially late for his first class. He begrudgingly picked his bag up to swing it over his shoulder, only, he must not have been paying enough attention to the people streaming in and out of the doors next to him because next thing he knew, black hot liquid was flying through the air and he heard a woman curse loudly in a foreign language. 

”Stupid fucking idiot!” A black haired, angry looking woman swore at him, looking down at her takeaway coffee cup where it lay on the ground while trying to shake the coffee off her hands.

”Why not look before you swing ugly bag like a bowling ball?” She yelled, turning a steely glare on Mickey.

”I– shit.. I wasn’t looking, I guess. Sorry,” Mickey offered lamely, this obviously wasn’t a woman you could spill hot coffee all over and then tell her to fuck off.

She put her hands on her hips. ”Clearly. You buy me new coffee now,” she demanded.

Mickey groaned, of course the universe would throw him a bossy Russian woman to handle on top of everything else.

”Fuck no. I’m already late.” 

”So am I. We are in same the class.” She told him and started walking away, she looked back at Mickey’s grumpy form over her shoulder. ”We will both be late but we will have coffee, yes?”

Mickey didn’t dare do anything other than follow her inside. They walked in silence to the coffee shop located in the cafeteria. The decent coffee was one of the few advantages the school had to offer its students. 

”Right, what are you having?” He asked her when it was their turn to order. 

”Black coffee.” She told the barista and reached for the container of sugar packets on the counter.

He signaled to the barista to make a coffee for him as well, while he waited he watched the woman with disbelief as she took out packet after packet of sugar.

”I don’t take sugar.” He told her when she took a sixth packet.

”Silly boy, these are for me.” She told him and grabbed a couple of napkins while she was at it.

Mickey shook his head and turned to pay for the coffee, glad that he would soon be able to get away from this sugar crazed woman. Making small talk with strangers went against his motto of not socializing unless it was absolutely necessary. He held out one of the cups out to her. 

”There. We're square now, right?” He asked.

”Fine, yes. My pants are still sticky with coffee but I will live.”

”Hm? Yeah.” Mickey was no longer listening because at that moment he spotted Gallagher, walking in accompanied by a tanned blonde surfer type of guy. Gallagher was laughing loudly at something surfer dude had said. An unfamiliar knot in his stomach twisted painful, and he moved his body so that he the Russian stood in front of him. For once glad of his less than impressive height. He let out a sigh of relief when Gallagher passed by without noticing him. 

The woman, however, had noticed.

”Friends of yours?” She smirked at him with a raised eyebrow.

”None of your fucking business,” he snapped at her. 

”The tattooed man first spills my coffee and now he is rude to me, and people say you should not judge book by cover.” 

He glared at her, he was done with this woman. ”You have your coffee. My debt to you is paid. See you around.” 

With that he staked off to class.

—-

At lunch he indulge in some of the cafeterias finest fries, hoping it would kill the last of his hangover. He didn’t usually have lunch in the cafeteria. He usually brought a sandwich from home that he ate outside while smoking. This meant that he didn’t have a thought out game-plan for where to sit and how to act. 

He ended up sitting by himself at the end of a table for six. On the other end sat two girls talking about boys as if they where some kind of exotic animals you read about in National Geographic. 

He felt content sitting there, shoveling fries into his mouth like that’s what he’d been born to do, listening to the girls making plans to lure the boys they liked out of their lairs. 

But it didn’t last long. He was halfway through his plate when a voice with a now familiar accent interrupted his peaceful lunch.

”If you were not so rude maybe you would not have to eat alone.” 

”Have you considered that maybe I’m rude so that people will not sit and eat with me?” Mickey said without looking up. He added a sigh when the woman from earlier put her tray of goulash on the table and sat down. 

”Rude again. But don’t worry, I will sit anyway.” 

Mickey had a sneaking suspicion that the girl, despite her sarcastic tone of voice, was trying to befriend him. He also thought about maybe asking her name, but he didn’t want to encourage her.

”Ugh, you are just like a bad rash, aren’t you?”  

She said nothing but Mickey had to admit that the look she gave him could probably put  both his and Mandy’s withering stares out of business. There was obviously something wrong with her, normal people don’t voluntarily have lunch with someone who just compared them to a rash.

She cleared her throat pointedly before changing the subject. ”So, are you enjoying the programing course?” 

Accepting that there was no way out of the situation, he resigned himself to eating his fries and just let what was about to happen happen.

”It doesn’t make me wanna kill myself I guess,” he said between bites and shrugged his shoulders   
noncommittally, ”but it’s not exactly living the American Dream.” 

”You get degree, get job, support your family. It’s just life.” The girl said over a spoonful of goulash. Then she nodded to something behind him. ”Your friend from before is coming over.”

Now, for someone with such a blasé look on life, Mickey Milkovich sure has a flair for the dramatic. Because at that moment Mickey felt an ominous presence come over him. Like a mist of embarrassment and poorly concealed sexual tension sweeping through the room. Though it’s source was still not in Mickey’s view, he could definitely sense Ian Gallagher coming closer.  

When he finally stepped into Mickey’s line of sight, Mickey did his best to look unfazed and like he hadn’t spent a large part of the day trying not to throw up. Gallagher looked amazing as usual. Easy, breezy Gallagher.

 ”Hey, Mickey,” he said carefully.

Of course he couldn’t just leave Mickey alone. Of course Gallagher is the type of person who wants to talk about things.

”Hey.”

At least he was alone now, Mickey thought. He couldn’t help but wonder where surfer boy had gone, but only for a second though. Then he remembered that who Gallagher hung out with was none of his business, and that he couldn’t care less.

Ian looked at the woman on the other side of the table, waiting for Mickey to introduce them.

”This is… well..” He gladly shifted his focus from Gallagher’s freckle covered face to his unwanted lunch companion. ”I actually have no idea what your name is.”

The woman reached her hand out to Ian. ”Svetlana Volkov. It means wolf.” She looked Gallagher over head to toe with scrutinizing eyes.

”Oh, cool. Ian Gallagher.” He shook her hand and let loose one of those killer smiles. Just like that, the uncertainty Ian had showed when he’d addressed Mickey, was completely gone.

It made Mickey feel a little better knowing that he wasn’t the only one who though the situation was awkward. He only wished the cause of it hadn’t been him being a naive idiot.

It made him feel a little worse how obvious it was now that Gallagher flirted with everyone. Maybe he wasn’t even gay.

”Your name is Russian right?” Gallagher asked Svetlana. ”My brother took a semester of Russian and taught me some curse words.”

”My language has very powerful swears, you should not say them unless you mean them.” She wagged her fork warningly at him.

"Got it." He nodded seriously as her. "Well, I only came over to say hi." He looked back at Mickey. "I'll see you in class?" He trailed of, making it sound like a question, seeking Mickey’s verbal confirmation.

He gave the other man a half nod, looking on a spot just beside Gallagher’s face, hoping he wouldn’t notice Mickey’s reluctance to look him in the eye.

”Okay, bye then,” he said, giving Svetlana another smile. ”It was nice to meet you.”

He walked away and Mickey glanced behind him, watching the man retreat. He did not relax until Gallagher was well outside the cafeteria area. Then he turned back to his fries and got a good 30 seconds of eating before the woman, Svetlana, opened her mouth again.

”You do not like orange boy?”

”I don’t like him, I don't dislike him. I only sit next to him in class.”

She looked amused at that, like she was listening to a kid who’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar but tried to lie their way out of it anyway.

”So you don’t care that carrot boy made puppy eyes at you when you were busy staring at wall.”

He could not believe the nerve on this chick.

”You know what, fuck you! He did not make fucking puppy eyes. But even if he had been, then no, I would not care.” He got up and took his tray, preparing to defend his dignity by walking angrily away. Dramatic exits was something of a Mickey Milkovich specialty.

”Okay then, maybe I was wrong,” Svetlana smiled, clearly not believing her own words. ”Just tell me your name before you storm off.”

He sighed, but granted her her wish. ”Mickey Milkovich.”

She nodded, like his hearing his name suddenly had made things very clear. ”I have a cousin named Milkovich. He is stupid idiot too.”

With a huff and a glare Mickey turned on his heel, and made way towards the exit.

—-

No matter what Svetlana may or may not have meant to accomplish by her observations, Mickey came out of the conversation with renewed resolve to not be bothered by the schools apparently never ending smorgasbord of painful social interactions. He was there for the credits and nothing else.

He once again arrived before Gallagher to their English classroom. He briefly considered just switching his seat to eliminate the possibility of conversation between them, but he decided that it would indicate that he was bothered enough by their close proximity to move seats, so he sat down at his usual profanity-doodled desk.

He put his pen and notebook in front of him, skimming through his notes from the week before. His note taking for this class was going exceptionally well. It was an unexpected consequence of sitting next to the fittest eye candy he’d ever seen. He tried so hard to not look at Gallagher that he’d actually started listening to Mr. Collins lectures about the virtues and disadvantages of literature written during The Enlightenment.

The clock struck one and just as Mr. Collins cleared his throat to call his students attention Gallagher cruised in and took his seat next to Mickey. Gallagher gave him a small smile but didn’t say anything. Maybe because he didn’t wish to interrupt the lecture just beginning on or maybe he’d realized that Mickey wasn’t too keen on talking to him.

They spent the following 45 minutes silently taking notes. The first 20 minutes Mickey was happy with his progress, he didn’t glance over to the redhead once, but then Mickey realized that there was a terrible flaw with his don’t-talk-don’t-look-this-never-happened plan. Gallagher knew. He knew Mickey had wanted to get coffee, he knew Mickey liked seeing him in tiny golden booty shorts. He knew.

And while Gallagher certainly didn’t strike him like the type of person that would blabber about something like that just to cause trouble for someone, he did seem like the type that doesn’t consider being gay that big of a deal. After all, he was an erotic dancer.

If Gallagher was, in fact, gay himself Mickey guessed that the likelihood of him spilling the beans about Mickey’s orientation was relatively small. Unless he thought he was out…  
But if he wasn’t gay—who knew what he might say.

This was a low rate community college and he thought it seemed unlikely that any of the people he knows would end up here unless they got lost on their way to a correctional facility institution, he had seen one or two familiar faces. No one that he personally knew but a few siblings and cousins of people that he did.

This could not get out.

A little while later Mr. Collins was wrapping up the class, Mickey was only half listening to the instructions about the upcoming exam. He had gone into full damage control mode, something he’d found to be more complicated after Terry’s prison sentence and his own vow to cut back on criminal activity. The was nothing complex about death threats and pistol-whipping— and he’d been so good at it too.

The students around him slowly got to their feet and started walking to the exit, Gallagher gathered his stuff and got up too. Mickey had to act, he couldn’t give him another day to run his mouth.

”Hey, Gallagher, wait up.” Mickey shoved his shit into his bag and walked towards the giant ginger.

Gallagher looked surprised but he stopped to let Mickey catch up, ”Yeah?”

”Can we–” He nodded to the doors, ”–talk for a second?”

He walked out, looking behind him to make sure Gallagher was following him. He walked down the hall until he was far away from the people still streaming out of the classroom so they wouldn’t be overheard.

Gallagher stopped too, looking confused but curious by the way Mickey suspiciously looked around for any nearby eavesdroppers.

”What’s up?” Gallagher asked, leaning back against the wall.

Mickey stopped looking around them and focused on the man in front of him.

”You haven’t told anyone anything about me right?”

”About you — asking me out?”

He didn’t look confused anymore. He looked like he knew exactly what Mickey meant, but Mickey still needed to make sure Gallagher knew he didn’t only mean the asking-out thing. Mickey was still not comfortable using the word gay to describe himself. He’d never actually said it in reference to himself to anyone but Mandy. So instead of simply telling Gallagher what he meant — he stared him down.

It only took a couple of seconds before Gallagher nodded his head once, slowly. He stood up straight from the wall and took a half step forward. He was standing on the edge of Mickey’s personal bubble, close enough that he had to look up a little to keep their eye contact.

”Of course not.” Gallagher’s voice was low when he replied. ”You don’t need to worry about that. No one will hear anything from me.”

Mickey had no trouble believing his words this time, his eyes were too close to Mickey’s own for him to not see the sincerity in them.

The stare-down was another thing Mickey was usually really good at. He didn’t back down for anything. But after Gallagher’s words and with his eyes still boring into him, Mickey felt his stare become more like emotional, grateful eye gazing rather his normal angry and threatening stare of steel. This dude’s eyes were impossibly green. He reluctantly looked away.

”Thanks, I appreciate that.” He fiddled a little with the strap of his bag that was hanging over his shoulder, he didn’t know what to do next. He took a step back, he was done here he decided, mission accomplished. Then he felt Gallagher’s large and incredibly warm hand on his arm, right under where the fabric of his t-shirt stopped.

”Wait, I know things have been really awkward today, but I was hoping we could still be friends?” He said softly. ”If you want to?”

Shit.

He’d be lying if he said that the thought of spending time with Gallagher , even if only as a friend wasn’t appealing, but it would definitely fuck up his plan to feign indifference to Gallagher.

The taller man seemed to sense Mickey’s inner struggle and continued, ”Come on, me doing the talking, you supplying the occasional grunts. Think of how much more tolerable Mr. Collins lessons would be.”

Mickey couldn't help but smile a little at him, it was something about him that was so damn persuasive. Mickey didn’t think he’d stand a chance even if Gallagher hadn’t been so exceptionally hot. Not to mention that the man still had his enormous hand on Mickey arm.

He caved.

”Alright, alright. We’re friends. Happy?”

Gallagher smiled back at him, Mickey hoped to god that he wasn’t blushing.

”Pretty much,” Gallagher replied with a soft smile. He finally moved his hand away and crossed them in front of his stomach instead.

Mickey started backing away, afraid the smile on his face would escalate and completely ruin any chance of having a casual friendship with Gallagher before they even had time to try.

”See you tomorrow then — friend.”

He walked away before Gallagher could reply.

————

On his way home he experienced some intense mode swings. Like a pregnant lady he went from the near delirious state of mind that always came after he’d stood in Gallagher’s glow a bit too long — to a place of incredible fear for the unknown. He’d never had a friend he wanted to bone this bad before. He certainly had never had a friend who knew he wanted to bone them. He wasn’t even certain he’d had a real friend before period. He’d had friends who bought coke from him, he’d had acquaintances that were really his brother’s friends. He’d faked feeble, short-lived friendship with guys he was pretty sure would be up for a fuck after a few casual beers with a friend.

As much as he hated to admit it, he needed Mandy’s wisdom for this.

Mandy was already at home when he stepped through the door. She was lying passed out on the couch in her sweats, the TV on with an episode of _I Wanna Marry Harry_ on low volume.

He went to stand by the couch and lifted his bag over Mandy’s stomach. Payback time. He dropped the bag full of books directly on her middle. The scream she let out was not kind on his still aching head but it was worth if for the complete look of shock and terror on her face.

”YOU FUCKING WANK-STAIN OF A HUMAN BEING—”

”Oh shut up, now we’re even for this morning.” He snickered and walked to the kitchen to make himself a snack, Mandy was still muttering curses at him from her place on the couch. He made a couple of sandwiches for both him and Mandy to be used as a peace offering if necessary.

”Have you calmed down?” He asked her with raised eyebrows when he walked back into the living room, not daring to sit down before he knew she wouldn’t jump on him.

”Yes, it’s safe to approach,” she muttered sourly.

”How was your day?” He asked as a mere formality, he really just wanted to get it over with so they could talk about him.

”Same old, same old. People ask or food, I bring it to them, they say it’s not what they asked for.. Rinse repeat. Karen was there so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

”Good, good,” he replied absentmindedly, ”sounds great.”

”Alright, you obviously had a more eventful day, spit it out.”

He opened his mouth to tell her about the developments with Gallagher but nothing came out. He tried it again and ended up blurting the whole thing out.

”He wants to be friends, and he was smiling so I said yes.” He felt a blush coming on, but he was way passed the point of trying to hide stuff like that from his nosy sister. ”And also, a Russian woman wants to be friends with me." He rubbed a hand over his face, this day had not turned out the way he had expected it. "I don’t know what's happening.”

”Whoa, bizzaro day!” She giggled at his exhausted expression. ”You could form your own gang! Be the Pink Ladies of Green Growth Community College.”

Mickey threw his head back against the back of the couch.

”Hilarious. You should take that on the road.”

”Okay, all joking aside. Good on you with the Russian, the thought of you walking around the halls being all grumpy by yourself was getting to be too sad for me to handle,” she confessed, patting his leg.

”But about the boy,” she continued, ”you realize that he friend zoned you right?”

”Ehm—” He actually hadn’t thought about it like that. ”Yeah, I guess.”

”No, no guessing. He did. Which means that you can’t make another move on him without looking like a major douche.”

”It’s not like I was going to anyway.”

”You better not, but if your feelings for him doesn’t go away, you’re gonna have to tell him you can’t be friends either.” She grabbed her sandwich from the plate and dug in. ”Believe me, I have been in the friend zone more times than I can count. On a few occasions I’ve gotten the guy to fuck me once or twice because I mean—” she gestured up and down her body with her free hand, ”I’m hot. But I have never, not once, made it from the friend zone to the romantic relationship zone. It doesn’t happen."

He sagged a bit at that, he’d already given up any thought of dating Gallagher but it hurt a bit to hear Mandy say it so surely. He ate his sandwich in silence.

A few minutes later, he got up to head to the shower. He had to leave for work soon.

Mandy called him back from her the home she’d made for herself on the couch. ”Look, friends or not friends, I know the classic Milkovich way of handling this would be for you to repress that you ever asked him out, but for what it's worth, I think you should try it again.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, silently telling her that she was insane and he was judging her for it.

”It didn’t work out with this one but like you said this morning, there are plenty of guys out there Mickey. Go to a gay club where you don’t work or give online dating a go.” She smiled at him, ”you deserve good things.”

He didn’t know what to say, maybe she was right, but his balls needed a little time to recover before he could consider that for real. He shrugged and padded away to the bathroom.

”BUT IF YOU PUT ANY PICTURES UP ON GRINDR YOU SHOULD LET ME APROVE THEM FIRST.”

He rolled his eyes and closed the bathroom door, he’d known she wouldn’t be able to let that go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've been writing this chapter for eveeeer. Sorry about the wait. I know Ian wasn't in it so much but he will be in the next chapter :)
> 
> Reviews, good or bad, are appreciated!


	4. Part one: chapter 4

Every minute Mickey spent studying Computer Science made him more and more convinced that it must be the most endless and tedious science one could possibly study. The jargon was dry and the payoff slow. Not to mention the absolutely horrific text-book he’d had to spent his hard earned money on and then actually been made to read. 

He sat at one of the schools ancient computers, with his brick text-book and messy notebook spread out around him. He'd actually stopped studying about twenty minutes ago, but those around him might be fooled to believe that he still was since his eyes were still concentrated to the screen. His ability to keep a focused expression while not focusing on anything at all was the main reason he’d actually lasted at least a few years in high school. An ability he’d been glad to discover hadn’t gone away during his time away from public education. Unfortunately though, it wasn’t doing so much for him now when the plan was to _not_ get kicked out. 

Earlier that morning Mickey had gotten a call, a call from prison. Which according to Mickey was one of the worst type of calls you could get. Collin was getting out Friday. He had only done four out of his six months but was getting out on good behavior.

Mickey and Collin had both ended up in a  lot of difficulties together in the past, and they had stupidly played high risk games with their futures more times than Mickey could count. But the difference was that while Mickey's stupidity had only ever gotten him in trouble, Collin's had been saving his neck from the gallows over and over. Mickey robbed a house on the north side without a gun despite knowing better and he got shot in the ass for it, Mickey let some stoner blow him under his father's roof and he got two broken ribs and a concussion; Collin on the other hand, who had never had much for brains (the fact that he'd spent a whole decade higher than a cloud hadn't helped much with that either) had always been let off easy for his mistakes. His family had stopped trying to clue him in when they planned their illegal activities years ago and they only trusted him with small amounts for hustling. The police had had to learn the hard way that questioning him never led them anywhere.

So when most of the Milkovich family, sans Mickey and Mandy, had been caught red handed having "a discussion" with the Keller family in an abandoned building, the police had no trouble believing Collin when he said that he'd just been smoking in his car a block away and didn't know anything about the substantial amounts of coke they found in the house. They gave him six months for good measure and called it a day.

The past four months had been as close to bliss as Mickey had ever gotten. Mandy had visited the rest of the clan in prison a few times, she told their father half truths about what was going on at home and she reported  half truths back to Mickey about the shit their father wanted her to tell him. It had worked well but now the peace was over. Collin would bring the fear of Terry back into their lives and putting their new and improved lifestyle at risk.

Mickey was gonna ask his boss if he could get Collin a job, because the last thing he needed was his brother hanging round the house getting high and setting things on fire. A little more change in between their couch cushions wouldn't hurt either. 

Now there was only a few days left until Collins release date, and Mickey planned on getting as much studying in as he could, as Collin definitely would fill the house with his loser friends and cheep hookers when he got home.

So far it weren't going so well. Now twenty-seven whole minutes had passed and Mickey had hardly even blinked. The computer screen in front of him had gone black and his mind blank. He enjoyed these moments of peaceful silence his mind so rarely let him have. Saliva had been building up in his mouth and was now slowly making its way down his chin. He was completely in his own world, that is, until someone snapped their fingers in front of his face and successfully forced him out of the haze.

"Hellooo? Anybody in there?"

Mickey recognized Fiona Gallagher's amused face after a second of confusion and disorientation.

"Can I help you?" He snapped at her, annoyed at having been so abruptly brought back to reality.

"I hope so. I gotta be at work in a few hour and I was hoping to score some free internet-time but all the computers are taken..." She glanced down the row of computers and then looked at Mickey with an asking look in her eyes.

"Yeah?" Mickey failed to see how this was his problem.

Fiona sighed and pointed to his screen. "But then I noticed that you aren't really using your computer as much as you're drooling on it."

Mickey followed her finger and looked at his screen, not having realized how long he must have been sitting there doing nothing. He hit a few buttons to bring it back to life. He looked at the clock and realized that he was gonna be late for the second time this week. But that didn't mean that he wanted to just _give_ the computer away. He'd been chummy with enough people the last few days to last him through his whole college experience. He was gonna lose his reputation if he didn't watch himself.

"I'm not done yet," he answered her unspoken question and made an attempt to refocus on his work. He had hoped that the girl would just drop it and then  he could wait two minutes before making the independent decision to rush to his class. Unfortunately, Fiona Gallagher had other plans. She sat on his desk, right on top of his monster text book and drummed her fingers against her thighs.

"So, have you talked to Ian anything in class?" she asked, she sounded nervous but her eyes were steady when he looked up at her.

"I guess.. He's pretty chatty."

"He seem like he's doing good then?"

Mickey looked away, it seemed like she wanted him to reassure her about something that worried her, though Mickey didn't at all understand what. He'd been given the impression that Gallagher was tight with his family.  He never shut up about his brothers and sisters in class and when he'd first met him and Fiona it had seemed like she was a sort of mix between a sister and a mother to him.

"I don't really know him." He decided not to say more, as there was obviously a story behind all this and Mickey did not intend on getting involved. Not that he knew anything anyway. A week of small talk, some intense non-flirting, and 24 hours of friendship was probably not enough to get involved with someone's family drama.  

"Yeah of course. I just thought—never mind," she said, her hands stilled on her lap and she shook her head as if she was trying to let go of whatever was bothering her.

A mood filled the space between them, and if there was anything Mickey couldn't stand it was an atmosphere. He gathered up his stuff and quickly shoved them into his bag.

"I'm late. See you."

___

A few hours later he was once again having lunch with Svetlana. He was surprised by how much he enjoyed her blunt inquisitiveness when it wasn't directed towards himself. He also realized that she was probably busting her ass at the state's worst college for reasons similar to his own. She hadn't said anything to him, she  was one those people who knew how to talk without giving away anything she didn't want you to know. She wore a wedding ring and had told Mickey that she had been a house wife before enrolling. Maybe it was the chain smoking or they obsessive way she took notes in the class they had together but Mickey had a feeling she hadn't turned to education simply out of boredom.

Mickey would never admit it but he was nervous about seeing Gallagher again after lunch. He was getting real sick of not knowing which way was up with that guy. First there had been the flirting, then the painful rejection and now they were gonna be friends? At the rate the younger boy was going Mickey was gonna end the semester with a whiplash.

When he walked into Mr. Collins classroom Gallagher was for once already in his seat. He was sitting with his head leaning in his hand, listening to Mr. Collins anecdote about the time he went fishing with his old English professor. Mickey had heard the story the week before, it seemed as if the man would not rest until every single one of his student had heard it.

Mickey took his seat next to the very bored looking Gallagher.

"Hey."

"Thank god you're here. You know, the only thing I can think of that would be more boring than to go on a fishing trip would be to talk about Homer whilst being on said fishing trip—that and maybe listening to this story..." Gallagher whispered to Mickey, looking relieved have someone to talk to.

"And still, Mr. Collins here swears that it's the most profound experience of his life," Mickey snickered back. 

"I'm guessing he's never drugged his father with horse tranquilizers, put him in a coffin, and held a fake funeral for him then," he said casually and laughed at Mickey shocked expression.

Mickey had seen some shit go down in his lifetime but nothing quite so morbid.

"And that wasn't even profound, it was just another day in the Gallagher household," the other man mused.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he decided to change the subject. "Speaking of the Gallagher household, I ran into your sister today."

"Oh yeah?" Gallagher laughed again. "Our internet is down and she wanted to see this video of our dad trying to convince the world he's gay so he can get money from the government, apparently it's all over YouTube."

Mickey looked at the other man incredulously, and though Gallagher was laughing, he didn't seem like he was joking.

"You're kidding, right?" He questioned, turning in his seat to face Gallagher. "Is he gay?"

"No, I'm the only rainbow representative in my family—well, other than my mom. Frank is just living with some guy he met in AA so he can spend all his money on beer instead of rent."

Mickey didn't know what the fuck to say to that. His family was beginning to look normal to him compared to the circus show Gallagher was describing. In his family, drugs, fighting, and prostitutes were standard; but the Milkoviches were tragic rather than entertaining material for the Jerry Springer show.

The confirmation on Gallagher's sexuality had not gone unnoticed by him. Mickey found himself both uncomfortable and envious of the ease with which Gallagher offered such private information about himself. Mickey doubted he would ever be able to do the same without looking over his shoulder first.

"Anyway... It seemed like she was trying to check up on you." Mickey told him and turned to face Mr. Collins who had started his lecture. They didn't speak more for a while, but Mickey saw the way Gallagher's smile faded a little at his words. They sat side by side in silence, taking notes for about twenty minutes until Mr. Collins opened the floor for discussion.

"What did she say then?" Gallagher murmured.

"Nothing really, she just asked if I thought you were doing good. Don't know why she thought I would know but.." He replied with a shrug, curious to see if the boy would offer him some background on whatever was going on between him and his sister.

Gallagher looked relieved that his sister had kept it vague. His casual smile grew a little again both in size and genuineness.

"She's always been protective off us, thinks it's her responsibility to make sure we don't end up like Frank or Monica."

"Monica?"

"Mommy dearest," Gallagher retorted bitterly, "she decided she wasn't really suited for family life, so Fiona got stuck with it instead."

It was the Southside story in a nutshell, filled with junkies, criminals, and mental cases and no money or people willing to do shit about it.

Mickey nodded in understanding, there wasn't really much else to say about it.

"I haven't seen you down at The Fairytale again," Gallagher commented. "Are you hiding from the smitten manager?"

Mickey shook his head uneasily, he couldn't very well say that it wasn't the manager he'd been hiding from.

"Nah, The Illusion has just been busy."  

"You missed some premium drama Monday night." Gallagher lowered his voice as Mr. Collins called for the attention again.

"Oh yeah? Some sexual deviant pulled the shorts off a dancer again?" Mickey asked.

That was precisely what had happened his first shift at The Fairytale. Mickey had been walking around trying not to look directly at the sparkle covered groins (which was harder than one might think considering that the dancers were all up on podiums, putting their junk right at his eye-level) when some drunk molester decided to take it upon himself to unwrap the eye-candy.

"Jesus, has that happened? Maybe I should start wearing suspenders with the shorts." Gallagher giggled, and put one of his huge hands against his mouth trying to keep it in.

Mickey couldn't help but to smile big in return, he remembered the feeling of having that hand against his own wrist. It was something about him that was contagious. His laughter, his touch, it made Mickey feel warm, feel light.

Apparently their giggling had attracted attention from the rest of the class because they were rather rudely interrupted by a sighing Mr. Collins.

"While I am sure that whatever has the boys in the back giggling was very amusing, I am also sure that it was not my lecture on the politics of postmodern literature."  

Gallagher turned red and tried to suffocate his laughter while Mickey turned one of his famous glares on the scowling man. They both kept quiet for the remaining part of the class. But Gallagher caught Mickey's eye a few times, smiling at him like he was happy Mickey was there.

Mickey reminded him of their conversation when they got up to leave the classroom.

"So, tell me about the drama."

"Right! So I was giving this guy a lap dance. Nothing unusual there, just a normal day. But then, this _huge_ dude ran up to us and, honest to god, _lifted_ me off the guy like he was the Hulk or something." Gallagher held his hands out to illustrate the man's size to Mickey. "As it turns out it was the guy's boyfriend. And for a minute there, I thought he was gonna break my face for giving his man a lap dance, I was fearing for my life—"

"Where were my guys?" Mickey interrupted the other man with outrage in his voice and stopped walking abruptly. "Where were my guys?!"

"Oh, no no, Mickey, you would have been proud! They were running towards me like I was the last pair of Levi's in an outlet mall," Gallagher assured him. "But there was no need, Hulk-man stared at us looking lethal for a few seconds and then he burst in to tears! Like a real ugly cry with snot everywhere."  

"Okay, I'll admit I wasn't expecting that," Mickey allowed.

"No kidding, he was just crying to everyone around about how he just wanted to be loved. Then they escorted him away, and I saw José giving him a hug later when I was going to the break room," he finished his tale with another laugh.

"What a pussy," Mickey commented, "he should have just given you a beat down, show his man who's boss."

"Heartwarming, Mick."

It made Mickey's blood run a little warmer hearing Gallagher's nickname name for him. He tried not to smile.

Gallagher didn't seem to notice, he continued, "I felt kind of bad for the guy... Usually I think guys should think of it as a gift to get to witness me giving their boyfriends lap dances, but I've got to admit that it pulled at my heartstrings a little."   

"Well, I guess you're a pussy too then," Mickey joked.

Gallagher bumped his shoulder with Mickey's. Sending another warm jolt through Mickey body.

"You kiss your sister with that mouth?"

"Milkoviches does not kiss." Mickey laughed. "Occasionally, we do that spit-in-hand handshake but that's _it_."

___

When Mickey got to work later he had a smile on his lips, despite the foul mood he'd started the day with. Not even Mandy's comments on his uncharacteristically happy frame of mind had managed to bring him down. He understood that he would have to kick his own ass later for having let himself once more be charmed by Ian Gallagher, but he'd decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

He spent two hours manning the doors and happily cracked jokes with the scantily dressed women and Macklemore wannabes waiting in line outside.

He even got through a ten minute long phone conversation with The Fairytale's manager without rolling his eyes once. _I really need you here Mickey, we are lost without you. Lost! Nobody wears those security vests like you do Mickey._

But around 2 AM his good mood started to go sour. 2 AM was famous in his business for being a huge pain in the ass. It was around that time people was well into their  _one-drink-too-many_ drinks _,_ and fists and vomit started flying.

By 2.30 his scowl and murderous eyes were back where they belonged. At 2.34 a particularly pathetic Macklemore look-a-like who Mickey lectured after he'd brought his drink outside with him to have a smoke told him to ' _take a chill pill'_  and that was it, he was done.

On his way to the break room he spotted his boss, hunched over piles of paperwork, and the words were out of his mouth before he had time to stop himself.

"Tobias needs me over at The Fairytale for some reason, and the guys here has got things under control so I thought I'd go see what he's moaning about before my shift ends." 

Technically it wasn't a lie. Tobias had said that he needed him. It wasn't enough for Mickey to convince himself that he wasn't going over there to get another Gallagher fix, but he didn't have the energy to talk himself out of it.

"Sure," His boss and owner of the two clubs, Zoey, said. She looking up from her paperwork with an amused look in her eyes.

"What?" Mickey asked her carefully. She was extremely nosy and had never cared much for letting her employees keep their private life private. And that look usually came hand in hand with some intrusive questioning. 

His boss raised one of her eyebrows at him, "I'm trying to figure out whether that's code for ' _I've given in to Tobias puppy eyes and I'm going over there with a cock ring, hand cuffs, and a leather whip'_ or not." 

Mickey put one hand over his face and gave her the finger with the other. He was glad that he had worked with her for long enough now to know that he wouldn't find himself unemployed if he told her to go fuck herself.

 "You know what, not my type and not my thing, so you can put that up your ass."

She slapped her knee and laughed loudly. "Good for you Milkovich, you can do better than him." She sat quietly for a few seconds and her smile turned into a slightly disgusted frown. "He told me that he once followed a famous dominatrix around porn conventions all over the country hoping that she would _'notice him_ '."

"That doesn't surprise me one bit, that guy has 'needy and desperate' tattooed all over him," Mickey stated, gave her a wave and headed for the door, leaving his boss chuckling to herself.

On his brisk walk to the other club, eager to see Gallagher, he realized that maybe he wasn't really abiding by the _just friends_ rules. Maybe feeling like you were floating wasn't how you were supposed to feel several hours after a casual interaction with a new friend. He'd never understood the point of pining for someone who didn't like you back, hell, he'd never understood pining of any kind. Growing up he remembered witnessing Mandy crying, screaming and scheming her vicious revenge when boy's didn't like her back. He also recalled his brothers moping around the house when girls rejected their advances. It had seemed foreign to him. It wasn't as if any of them had been raised to believe in the power of love or anything. But they still all seemed to hope for it anyway. Mickey had been to only one of them to accepted the reality they had been living in. They were completely under their father's thumb. The shadow of it following them wherever they went—until suddenly it didn't.

Now up was down, down was up and the night sky and it's stars shining above him appeared endless. He realized that maybe it wasn't so easy to put out a fire once it had been lit.

___

The Fairytale was packed with the usual mid week crowd. He nodded to the staff at the door, ignoring their surprised looks at his appearance. He treaded the edge of the dance floor, searching the room for the redheaded dancer. He spotted him at one of the elevated podiums, tonight wearing a black feather boa with the booty shorts. And while Mickey wasn't crazy about the boa, or the glitter for that matter, Gallagher certainly made it work. He was dancing in perfect sync with the music, thrusting his hips like that's what he'd been born to do. Mickey wondered if those moves came natural to him or if there was footage from the security cameras somewhere in the club's archive of a stumbling, fumbling, teenage Gallagher.  

After an embarrassingly long minute of ogling he was brought back to the present by a tapping on his shoulder. He looked to his left and saw his co-worker Mark grinning easily at him.

"Checking out the new talent?" He asked, nodding towards the podium. "The kid's got some game, we had to break up a couple fighting over this guy a few nights ago."

"Speak for yourself," Mickey huffed, "I am merely observing and assessing the clubs security needs for the safety of the people in this vicinity." To prove his point he turned around and turned his attention to the bar and lounge area.

Mark was the only person Mickey had ever fucked who he had to see on a regular basis. But so far it hadn't been a problem. Mark was the perfect fuck buddy, he wasn't clingy and he had no problem keeping their arrangement on the down low, plus, he would fit perfectly in a firefighters calendar.

"Oh right, I forgot that you had to trade in your eyes in return for the promotion. But you can take my word for it, that is a fine-ass white boy," Mark licked his lips suggestively and walked away, laughing at Mickey unimpressed expression. 

Mickey then spotted Tobias talking to the bartender, and he left the dance floor thinking that he'd go talk to Tobias so he had a proper cover story for his visit since his boss would without a doubt ask him about it next time she saw him.

"Mickey, you're here!" Tobias lilted cheerfully when he saw him.

"Yeah, everything going good here?" Mickey asked, sneaking a glance back at the podium and saw that Gallagher had abandoned his post.

"I think you need to have a chat with Tony, he was getting a little too personal with a couple of girls earlier, I'd talk to him myself but I think you'd be more successful," he said and leaned back against the bar desk, fixing Mickey with what he himself probably thought was a casual and sexy look. 

Mickey wondered how long this guy could go on before he admitted defeat, Mickey doubted he had even smiled at the guy, and he had definitely not done anything to encourage him. But the comment Zoey had made about the dominatrix suggested that it might take a while.

"Alright, I'll take care of it. Anything else?"

"Nope, it's all good. We're about to close shop in a few minutes. Wanna grab a drink before you go?" He nodded to the bar behind him.

"No," Mickey replied determinedly. "See ya." He backed away, and set his sights back to the dance floor. 

But what he saw when he got there, was not what he had expected. In one of the booths next to the dance floor, Gallagher was straddling an older, graying man and who had his tongue stuck down the redheads throat. The man looked like he was well into his fifties, definitely too old to be making out like that with someone barely into his twenties. The man had one hand on Gallagher's legs, about to make their way into his shorts, the other behind his head to pull him closer.

What Mickey felt at the sight wasn't jealousy, at least he didn't think so, it was more like confusion and a little bit of pain. Sure, everybody had their types and Mickey had no illusions about himself but at least he didn't need Viagra to get it up.

With his bad mood quickly returning, he went to talk to Tony to pass the time until closing time since Mickey didn't really feel like interrupting the make out session. And fifteen minutes later, he saw Gallagher leave, the silver fox in tow.

Feeling more gloomy than he had done when he arrived he was just about to take off himself when Mark walked up to him, now wearing a tight tank top instead of the usual security vest. But not even the contours of Marks abs did much to help his mood.

"You wanna come back to my place for a bit?" Mike asked.

Mickey shrugged his shoulders and answered, "Sure."

Maybe it wasn't the most enthusiastic response to the offer of an orgasm but he couldn't really bring himself to care about that. It wasn't like he was trying to impress anyone.

"You okay? You look a little.." Mark trailed off.

"Hey! According to Tobias no one looks as good in a security vest as I do." Mickey  muttered.

Mark rolled his eyes, "Well, if that's what _Tobias_ says, then who am I to come with opinions?"

Mickey smiled a little against his will. "Shut up or you'll talk your way out of a done deal."

He began walking to the exit with Mark in tow.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. It's been a few weeks.. The first week I have no excuse for, I was lazy. But I stared uni this week and have been a little preoccupied with that. I'll try to do better in the future. :)
> 
> I never feel more like the middle class, Swedish hipster that I am then when I'm trying to write American slang. I'm embarrassed to say how much I depend on Urban Dictionary... 
> 
> Comments of any kind are greatly appreciated!


	5. Part one: chapter 5

  
Two weeks later, Mickey was back at Mark's place. One of the best things about having a truly casual, semi regular fuck buddy was, according to Mickey, that he could accept a cup of coffee the morning after without having to worry about sending any kind of relationship-like signals. Mickey thought he could probably live on sex and coffee if he had to. He sat at the other man's kitchen counter, sipping from his cup, slowly feeling more and more like a human and less like a vampire on an adjusted sleep schedule. For Mark on the other hand, coffee seemed unnecessary. He was running back and forth between his closet and the bathroom mirror.

"Today is the day. Today _is. The. Day_."

He'd been saying that over and over like a mantra for a while now, more to himself than to Mickey, while vigorously spraying his chest with body spray.      

"Today is the day you... What?" Mickey called after him, "Join The Supremes?"

Mark came to a halt in front of him with an unamused look on his face, holding up a green shirt in one hand and an purple one in the other.

"Funny. Which one?"

"You sure you want my fashion advice?"

Mark sighed exasperatingly and set off for the bathroom again.

"Come on, don't keep me in suspense. What's up?"

Mickey wandered in the opposite direction, gathering up his clothes where they were scattered over the bedroom floor.  

"I'm gonna do it!" Mark shouted, "I'm gonna ask her out!"

Mickey rolled his eyes from his spot on the floor, where he was trying to reach one of his socks under the bed. Of course. He should have guessed. Mark was a mailman during the day and a security guard by night, and all he'd talked about the last month was some girl who covered the district next to his.

Mark walked back into the bedroom, wearing the green t-shirt and running his hands through his hair. Mickey successfully retrieved his sock and sat on the bed to pull his clothes back on.

"This would be the mailwoman slash goddess with the smile of gold and thighs of steel that you haven't been able to shut up about?"

Mark stopped fussing with his hair to stare dreamily into space. "You should see her on that bike Mickey, she's like an unstoppable force of nature—delivering mail and hope." He sighed happily. "She's the one."

"Yeah sure, I bet she's got ten cats and a birthmark on her boob shaped like a Hitler-mustasch."

Mickey got up and zipped his jeans and sniffed his shirt before putting it on. Doing the walk of shame didn't really bother him much, something that might have to do with the fact that he'd only bathed like once a month growing up. Wearing the same clothes twice still constituted as clean to him.

"You know what, get out of my house," Mark scolded him. "Today is the first day of the rest of my life and I will not have you and your defeatist attitude ruin it for me."

"Relax, I need to head out anyway." Mickey walked passed Marks, who'd gone back to shaping his hair to look like he'd just stepped off the set of an Axe commercial. "But if you don't mind me asking, why the fuck does it matter what your wearing now if you're not gonna see her until you're in your uniform with a bicycle helmet on you head?"

"You think the mail sorts itself? She's gonna have hours admiring this work of art–" he said and gestured to his body, "–before we leave the office."

"Right." Mickey grabbed his jacket and swung the front door open, turning back to give Mark one last skeptic look, "In that case... you sure about that shirt?"

Mark looked down at his torso, pulling at nervously at the green material.

"You think I should wear something that shows off my arms more maybe? I know this one's a little loose but I just though the co—"       

Mickey couldn't have held back the little laugh at the stressed look on Mark's face if he had tried.

"Jesus, I'm only messing with you. You're gonna be fine. She's just a boy and you're just a girl, can I make it any more obvi—"

"That's it. Go."

Mark walked up to the door, clearly about to slam it in Mickey's face. So he quickly backed out, laughing all the way down the hall.

__________

It had taken him a few week, but Mickey had finally gotten into a decent routine. He studied almost as much as he needed to, he worked, he slept whenever he had a few minutes free. He'd learned which classes he could skip and which students he should avoid. Granted, he still woke up most days feeling like he'd been run over repeatedly by a bulldozer but that had pretty much been his default state of being even before he decided to give clean living a go.

Collin had been home for a week now, and so far it wasn't as bad as Mickey had thought it would be. The Milkovich house had a long standing reputation of being a good base for a party but a hostile environment for casual hang out sessions, the risk of ending up with a concussion for sneezing the wrong was way much too high for that. Collins friends knew to let him come to them. After the mandatory welcome home party, which Mandy had successfully moved to the Alibi, they'd hardly even seen him. He came home to nurse his hangovers and raid the fridge but that was it.  

For Mickey, Collin's homecoming was a test run for how he was going handle the homecoming of the other members of his family who would be getting out within the next year or so. None of them had ever relied on normal jobs to make a living, something Mickey did not expect would change any time soon. But without Terry home, he doubted that anyone would find the motivation to get their old business back up and running like before. Terry was pretty useless himself, drunk and unnecessarily violent, but there was nothing he cared more about than the family's reputation. His brothers, cousins and uncles contributed with muscle but it was Mickey who had been groomed to take over for his dad one day. Terry never suspected for a second that Mickey wouldn't step up when shit hit the fan.  

Until recently Terry had been correct in thinking Mickey's loyalty was abundant and unwavering. Mickey had been thirteen years old the first time he fired a gun with the intent to harm. He'd been to juvie twice and had been questioned by the police about his father's business more times than he could count. He was a Milkovich, through and through. Or at least he'd thought he was.

The first time Mickey'd had sex with a girl was on his fourteenth birthday. According to his brothers there where two things that made you a man, losing your virginity and shooting a gun. The latter of which Mickey had already done, but he'd never really thought much about girls. But he knew it was important, a rite of passage his brothers had already been through. After, they had come home bragging about their conquests, and Terry had given them all a slap on the back and a beer. _You're a man now_. They all talked a lot about sex. How many girls they'd fucked and how good it felt. They used to wink at him, telling him what to do when it was his turn. Mickey didn't really see the appeal of girls. When he looked at them he didn't wish he could see them naked, they were just girls. But then, right before his birthday, Iggy decided that Mickey's time had come and he pointed him in the direction of the girl living a few houses down the street. She was in the same year as Mickey in school, but he only knew her from the parties his family hosted when the weather was warm enough to spent the night drinking in the back yard without freezing your ass off.

They'd held a party to celebrate him. Booze had been flowing, the music could be heard half a mile away. Mickey had lead the girl to his room, trying his best to look unfazed by the whole thing. The rude hand gestures his family were directing his way did not help him at all. It had been quick, awkward and nothing like his brothers had described it. It hadn't felt bad per say, he just couldn't see why people made such a fuss about it. But it was clear to him that admitting that was not an option. From that point on he fucked girls on a regular basis because that was what he was supposed to. Because that's was what all guys wanted to do.        

It was seven years later when he saw his first chance to get away from the life his family expected him to have. He started applying to colleges just before the-deal-gone-to-hell got the lot of them locked up in federal prison. He kept it a secret from everyone but Mandy. The thought of him getting in and actually going had seemed so farfetched that he'd never considered what he would do if it actually happened. Then, like a sign from the fucking heavens, it was suddenly just him and Mandy left in their usually cramped house. The cops got their act together in perfect time for the one major deal Mickey hadn't been involved with since he got big enough to point a gun like he meant it. So when he got his letter of acceptance he had counted his luck and taken his chance.

But now there where no going back. There was only a matter of time (and not much of it he guessed) before his and Mandy's carefully constructed lies about what they'd been doing the last few months were going to come to dust before their very eyes. For now, Collin had agreed to keep his mouth shut. Probably because he'd always depended on their father for money, but now he wasn't there to let him in on deals or cons or stocking their home with alcohol and drugs. Mickey was in charge, and he'd promised to get Collin a job, which sounded better to Collin than robbing old ladies of their purses full time. But whenever Terry did find out, there wasn't like Mickey could do shit about it anyway. If Terry'd had more people he could have trusted to keep to business going he would have. But there was only Mickey, and he was done with that crap. That said, he was hardly going to try and hurry the inevitable along.

 ________

He arrived at school a couple minutes early thanks to Mark's eagerness to get Mickey out of his apartment, so he took the time to have a smoke before heading to class. It had become one of his favorite things to do, to stand against the brick wall in the late September sun with a cigarette between his fingers. For a few minutes all his problems seemed less urgent. The fact that he'd also had both coffee and sex earlier the same morning made him feel incredibly zen, so he shut his eyes and turned his face towards the sun wishing he could just stand there for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, he didn't get more than two minutes of peace before he heard the sound of snapping fingers inches away from his face. He knew who it was even before he opened his eyes to glare at the intruder. He had gotten used to Svetlana's uncanny ability to appear seemingly out of nowhere in the past couple of weeks.

"You know, most people use their words to communicate." He sighed, she was wearing heals so he had to look up a tiny bit to look her in the eye.

She scoffed at him and began walking towards the entrance. "This from man who only uses his eyebrows and tiny hands to speak."

"I'll have you know that my hands are excellently proportioned to my body, which is small but powerful," he spat back, earning a reluctant smile from Svetlana. He stubbed out the cigarette, tossed it on the ground and followed her inside.

Mickey had, apart from dealing with school, work and family also fallen into a comfortable routine with Svetlana. He found that their naturally grumpy personalities went well together. She didn't try to pry information about his personal life out of him and he granted her the same respect, and their angry stares when displayed right next to each other were enough to keep even the bravest of souls at a respectable distance.   

She also took notes like nobody's business, which he found handy now when they had papers to turn in and maybe Mickey had been catching up on sleep in class instead of taking notes of his own. Svetlana was graceful enough that she only protested mildly when he unabashedly copied her work.

"I thought you wanted to pass class and get out of this piece of shit neighborhood," she scolded him when they took their seats and Mickey snatched her notebook from her desk.

"I do and I will. I just thought computer science would be more about, you know...playing games and stuff," he said lamely. "I just want to get in there and do it, I'm not cut out for sitting in classrooms listening to old farts going on and on about things I could learn better with an actual computer in front of me." He shook his head slightly and bent over the desk to decipher Svetlana's illegible scribbles.

The class dragged itself by, and Mickey cursed his fickle mood as he felt if shift from post-climatic content to mind-numbing boredom barely fifteen minutes in. He begrudgingly took his own notes and looked up at the clock on the wall about every thirty seconds. He was annoyed with himself for not being able to keep up better with the class. He knew he wasn't book smart, and maybe he even was a bit behind most other beginners considering that he'd had minimal access to computers growing up. But this was just something he'd thought he could be good at.

Though he hadn't planned much for his future or thought what he'd do if he actually managed to get through college, a vague dream about maybe becoming a web designer or doing 3D animations had slowly been taking shape in the back of his mind. He wanted to build something out of nothing. All his life he'd been picking up broken pieces and sticking them together to see if he could make something useful out of it. His whole world was like a tragic smorgasbord of duck taped junk and other peoples trash.

He was a practical man so he'd figured that computers would be right up his alley. But here they wouldn't let you even touch a computer before you'd taken the first intro course. He guessed there wasn't enough money to shell out computers to losers who would most likely drop out later anyway. But he would be damned if he gave up before he even got to try.        

Later, at lunch, the sun had disappeared behind the clouds and a light rain was coming down over the school grounds. So he and Svetlana opted for the cafeteria rather than their usual spot outside for lunch. While Mickey was stuffing his mouth with the sandwich he'd brought from home like it had been years since his last meal, Svetlana was slowly picking at her orange, and he thought there was something unusually distant about her face.

He had a feeling a good friend would probably ask if anything was wrong. But they weren't normal friends who cared for each other's well being. The mocked each other, and competed about who delivered the best passive aggressive insults and, he had to admit, helped each other with schoolwork. But they were no way near the point where they unburdened their misfortunes on each other.  

So he said nothing. He chewed his food and enjoyed the quiet. Except it wasn't really quiet. Every few minutes Svetlana gave a tiny sigh, then popped a piece of fruit in her mouth and then sighed again. She wasn't even halfway through her orange when Mickey had had enough.

"The fuck's the matter with you?" He commanded, making her jump in her chair at his sudden outburst.

"Seriously, your little display of anxiety is stressing me out," he prompted when she kept quiet.

"Mind your own business."

"I'm trying, but your constant sighing is messing with my focus."

She sighed again, this time loud and exasperatingly before shrugging her shoulders. "My baby has chickenpox. He's in pain, I am here with you, I cannot help, so I sigh."

"Wait, you have a kid?" Mickey stammered, his chin dropping.

Svetlana didn't strike him as the motherly type, with her blunt manner and her penchant for rude cursing. Though he supposed he could picture it, Svetlana with a child just like her. With dark hair and minimal patience when dealing with the rest of the human race.

"I have a two year old son. Yevgeny, after my father."

She took her phone out and held it out in front of his face, flipping through picture after picture of a surprisingly sweet looking boy. He'd expected Svetlana's offspring to at least sport the same scowl, but the boy in the photos looked happy. There was a man in the few of them; Svetlana, the child and the man were smiling for the camera in traditional family poses. The pictures were of them at the beach, at the zoo, in what he assumed was Svetlana's living room, it looked like the perfect life.

"You're married?! You're not wearing a ring." He starred down at her hands on the table, thinking that maybe there he'd just missed all the signs of Svetlana's apparently Brady Bunch-like home life. After all, he wasn't the most observant of people. But she wasn't wearing one. Now on a mission, his eyes searched her neck to see if she wore one on a necklace, like in those movies about love stories gone terribly wrong. But there was nothing there either. 

"Yes, five years now," she said matter-of-factly.

She took the last slice of orange into her mouth and wiped her hands on her jeans. Mickey had thought that Svetlana's background must me similar to his own. He considered that maybe her old eyes and broken English had made him jump to inaccurate conclusions.

Svetlana seemed to have had enough of the conversation, she gathered up her orange peel and empty soda bottle and got up.

"You will be late if you stay there with mouth open, and you will miss loverboy. Chop chop."

The remark about Gallagher snapped Mickey back to the now. Not a day went by without her referring to Gallagher as 'loverboy', or 'boyfriend' or something equally far from the truth. Mother or not, he was going to have to take her down if she didn't stop that crap soon.

He grumpily followed her out the cafeteria, when they reached the stairway where he was going up and she was going down, she gave him a wave and turned her back.

"See you tomorrow," she called back over her shoulder.

"Wait." Mickey realized he'd forgotten something in his total confusion about Svetlana's secret identity. "You're kid, I know chicken pox is normal for kids to have but—he's gonna be okay right?"  

Svetlana smiled at him, not the usual mocking one she gave him all the time but a sweet one.

"He will be fine, thank you for asking."

"Good, see ya." He nodded at her and walked away.

________________

For once, Mr. Collins actually wasn't already in the room when Mickey entered. Neither was Gallagher for that matter. Mickey sat down and waited. The last 24 hours of school, then work and then some more non-sleeping at Mark's place was staring to get to him. He put his head down on the desk and let himself drift away.

Five minutes later, he'd just been getting comfy, with his textbook as a pillow when Mr. Collins clapped his hands to call the class' attention. Gallagher was still missing from his seat but since it wasn't unusual for the boy to glide in last second Mickey didn't think much about it.

Mickey had slowly started to feel like he could relax in Gallagher's company. The joked around in class and sometimes exchanged a few words at work if they had the time. Gallagher was easy going and made it simple for Mickey to pretend like he'd never asked the other man out. Sure, Mickey still felt a little flustered watching him dance at the club and maybe he laughed a little too much at his farfetched puns. And yeah, it hurt a little, but he was sure it would pass. Mandy said that though it might take some time, crushes always went away in the end. She's suggested that he'd try to get over Gallagher by getting under someone else. And Mickey had been getting laid plenty lately. Even though he knew she meant that he should _go out_ with someone else, and not just have casual sex with someone who he had no romantic feelings for what so ever, he still felt as if he'd been doing a good job with his first unrequited crush.

The lecture went on, but Gallagher never showed. Mickey had seen him the day before and he hadn't mentioned anything about not showing up the next day.

It's not that it mattered to him really. He was just a little annoyed that he hadn't gotten his daily fix of the man, which he enjoyed _but in no way_ depended on. Mickey had thought that Mr. Collins and his dramatics were bad enough to endure with Gallagher there to help him mock the crusty old man, without him there they were some how even worse. But he thought about what Mandy would do to him if she found out he'd started napping during class. His sister was a fierce creature and he wasn't ashamed to admitting that she kicked his ass on a weekly basis, so he forced himself to kept his eyes open.

______

Mercifully, there was no one at the house when he got home. With Mandy at work and Collin who the fuck knows where, it took him minutes to fall asleep in front of the TV.  He preferred sleeping with sounds around him rather than in complete silence. But it didn't relax him unless he was sure no one would jump him while he had his guard down. So television was the perfect background noise for him.

Though lately, he'd been napping to re-runs of Americas Next Top Model and he was beginning to believe that Tyra Banks was forcing fashion advice and runway tips on his subconscious form. Just the other day he'd pointed out to Svetlana that she never smile with her eyes. But damn, it soothed him, and being more conscious of his body language and whatever else they talked about could probably only help him.

He was in the shower getting ready for work when Collin came tumbling through the door, seeming to be somewhere between tipsy and straight up drunk despite the early hour.

"Hey, Mickey!" He called out loudly.

Mickey could hear him going from room to room.

"MICKEY! I CAN HEAR YOU."

Yeah, he was definitely drunk. He might be stupid but not so stupid that he wouldn't look in the bathroom when he could hear the shower running.

"I'm in the shower you idiot!" Mickey called back when it became apparent that Collin wouldn't find him on his own but wouldn't stop screaming until he did.

He heard his brothers footsteps coming closer and then the door was pulled open.

"Get the fuck out Collin I'm tryi—"

Collin pulled the shower curtain aside with one hand and took a slug from an opened can of beer in his other. He apparently wasn't bothered at all by Mickey's flummoxed face. Mickey struggled with the curtain and pushed his brother away from him with a wet hand.

"There's no food," Collin stated, looked expectantly at Mickey.

Mickey was now trying to out-power Collin in a struggle for the shower curtain, which was harder than it would have been had he not been butt naked.

"Get out!" He managed to wrestle the curtain out of Collins hand. "You're a grown man, you can feed yourself."

Collin sighed loudly, like he could not believe Mickey's bad manners. But to Mickey great relief, he exited the bathroom. Mickey finished up as quickly as he could, not even taking the time to masturbate like he'd planned, worried that his brother might come back demanding Mickey to help him locate his brain. 

Fifteen minutes later Mickey walked into the kitchen, his brother sat at the table with his beer and a piece of toast in front of him. Mickey grabbed himself a pop tart to eat on his way to work.

"The bread is dry," Collin piped up, just as Mickey was walking out of the kitchen again.

"Well, then go buy some new. I'm not your fucking mother," Mickey retorted.

"Don't have any money."

Mickey walked passed his brother, slapping the back of his head on the way.

"I fucking told you I'd get you a job."

Collin shrugged his shoulders. "I just spent months watching half naked guys flex their muscles, I'm not super eager about doing it for a living."

"Half naked, flexing men?" Mickey let himself smile a little at the grumpy look on his brother's face. "Jail sounds pretty different from juvie."

Collin threw his hands out helplessly. "They were fucking always competing about who had the best biceps and triceps and whatever... And then there was me," He sighed, "I hate pushups, Mickey."

Mickey laughed and left his miserable, unfit brother in the kitchen.

"I'm going now!" He shouted and opened the door. "Going to my paid job of watching male models flex their muscles and witness lesser men put change down their underwear."

_______

It was a slow night at the Fairytale. The place was half filled with mid-week regulars and a large group of old queens celebrating a man wearing red stilettos 50th birthday. Mickey loved the club on nights like this, it's the most relaxed a club where the employees wore tiny glitter ties on bare, waxed chests ever got. There was also less reasons for him to bring the glare and eyebrow combo out. 

The first thing he did when he got there was to check the schedule to see if a certain red head was gonna come in (he was). And then he spent the next couple of hours by the front doors with Mike trying to think of a reason to go back inside and make sure Gallagher was actually there. Mark made time pass a little faster by recapping how spectacularly he had failed in his mission to sweep the woman of his dreams off her feet. Mickey tried hide how much he was enjoying Mark's misfortune, but misery loves company and apparently so does humiliation. The fact that Mickey wasn't the only one unable to get the affection of the one they desired made him feel like less of a loser.

"How can she say I'm ' _not her type'?"_ Mark cried out pathetically. "I'm everybody's type! I'm like a black, male Jennifer Lawrence, calling out to the hearts and sex organs of people everywhere."

Mickey glanced from Mark to the short line of people waiting to get in, worried that Mark's less than fearsome appearance would compromise their authority.

"I know, I know, you're a walking aphrodisiac. But man, you gotta pull it together."

"Is my looks going? I'm still young!" Mark went on, he obviously handled rejection very differently than Mickey did. "You still think I'm hot right?"

"Gorgeous. Why don't you take a lap inside and come back later," Mickey said, trying to sound supportive, while at the same time ushering him away from the crowd who were clearly eavesdropping on them. "Have a shot or something."

   _______

A little while later Mark came back outside, but this time he was all business.

"Mickey, you gotta come inside. One of the dancer is drunk of his ass and Tobias is screaming his head off."

Mickey rolled his eyes in annoyance and muttered, "Why is it so hard for people to get that 'no drinking on the job' means _no drinking on the job_." Not caring about the fact that he had told Mark to go drink a shot less than half an hour earlier.

He hurried inside to see Tobias leading a very familiar looking red head to the staff locker room. Shit. He half jogged, half power walked after them, hoping that Tobias hadn't already fired Gallagher. Before he even opened the locker room doors he could hear Tobias using a very different tone than the one he used when he talked to Mickey. First of all, it was louder.

"I don't know what kind of stripper movies you've been watching but we're trying to run a business here!" Tobias thundered, "This is no place for sad twinks to test boundaries!"

Ian was sitting slumped against a row of lockers, he looked like he'd passed the fun-drunk stage and was hitting the nauseas-and-hardly-standing zone hard. If Mickey hadn't found the sight of him so out of it so distressing he might have found it funny.

He decided he had to step in and get Gallagher away from Tobias before he threw up on the man's shoes, cause then he'd be toast for sure.

"Hey Tobias, why don't you let me handle this." He put on his best serious face to convince the man that Gallagher would be appropriately punished.

"Oh Mickey, would you?" Tobias voice immediately softened at the sight of him. "I really should go smooth things over with the guests."

"Yeah, I got it." He caught Gallagher's eyes and nodded a little at him, trying to make him feel better without tipping his boss off.

Tobias shot Mickey a smile and Gallagher a glare and left the room. The second the door swung close Gallagher dropped his head into his hands and let out a long moan.

"Oh god," he groaned and put his head down between his knees, putting it in his hands apparently hadn't been enough.

"Mickey," Mickey tried to joke, "my name is Mickey." But Gallagher just glanced up at him from his crouched down position, looking utterly lost.

"Erm, I'm Mickey, not God..." Mickey explained.

Gallagher didn't reply, but he did sit up straight and took a few deep breaths, seemingly to try to get himself under control.

"You okay?"

Gallagher looked down at his feet and shrugged his shoulder. "I'm fine. I'm sorry about this."

Mickey unlocked his locker and took out the bottle of water he stored in there. He sat down next to the other man, offering him the water.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I've gotten embarrassingly drunk more times than I can count." Mickey placed his hand tentatively on his shoulder. For the moment having forgotten about the electricity he knew hid in the other mans skin.

Seeming surprised by Mickey's touch, Gallagher looked up and met his eyes. He still looked gorgeous. Red faced and with bloodshot eyes, but none the less beautiful to Mickey.

"Is something wrong?" Mickey asked, and when Gallagher only starred at him like he was missing something obvious, he added, "I mean, apart from the fact that you got drunk at work and got yelled at by your boss."

Gallagher turned away from him then and put his head back between his knees.

"It's nothing, it's just family stuff," Gallagher's voice came a little muffled from below his legs. "It's kind of a long story."

Mickey spent the next minute thinking about how best to proceed, he could hardly let Gallagher go home by himself in his condition, and he was fairly sure he wouldn't have money for a cab. He patted the man on the shoulder, where he still had his hand, a couple of times before he stood up.      

"Alright, this is what we're gonna do," he said, putting on his game face, "You're gonna drink some water, then you're gonna get dressed and I'm gonna help you get home."

Gallagher looked back up, and shook his head. "No, you don't have to do that."

You haven't seen yourself, man," Mickey cut him off. "You don't look like you could make it out of this locker room without help right now."  
  
Gallagher flipped him off but put the bottle of water to his lips, which Mickey took that as an okay.

" _Then,"_ Mickey went on, "on the L, you're gonna tell me the long family story, cause I don't think I could carry you all the way home if you fell asleep. I also don't have any idea where you live."

Mickey had always been good in a crisis. He was the kind of person that was constantly underwhelming in almost all aspects of life until everybody else got knocked down. Then he rose like a heroic freaking phoenix, only to turn to ashes again when things started going back to normal.

Gallagher actually smiled a little at him. "You would try to carry me?"

"Hell yeah, firefighter style."

Gallagher gave a laugh and took a few more sips before slowly standing up—holding his hands out like he was trying to balance on a beam.

"Way to go, one foot in front of the other," Mickey laughed. "It's really gotta suck being so tall in situations like these, there's such a long way to fall."

Gallagher ignored him and slowly moved to his locker. Mickey tried not to stare to hard when he fished out the key to his locker from when it had been stuck between his hip and skin tight shorts.

Five minutes later, Gallagher had most of his clothes on and they walked towards the back door. Mickey walked behind Gallagher like he was a shepard trying to guide his sheep home. Outside the door they ran into José who was out smoking. Mickey had been hoping that Tobias wouldn't spot them, anyone else was fine, his guys had his back.

"Hey, man. Can you cover for me tonight?"

José looked puzzled at him, Mickey wasn't known for doing people favors or asking for them, but he seemed to decided that he didn't want to get involved.

"Sure thing boss, but you owe me."

Mickey thanked him and then they were off, Gallagher was a little unsteady on his feat but other than that the walk to the L was without incident.

Though the second they took their seats Gallagher looked about ready to fall asleep. Mickey kicked his feet lightly, making sure he stayed with him.

"Hey, you owe me a story," Mickey prompted, it was only half because he wanted Gallagher to stay awake, he also desperately wanted to know more about him. When they talked in class Mickey wouldn't let himself ask all that he wanted to know, he didn't want to seem too eager.

Gallagher looked Mickey deep in the eye, he looked sad. "My brother came home for a visit today," he began, "and we're really close. Or at least we used to be."

He drifted off, and seemed to get lost in his own thoughts. And judging by the morose look on his face, it wasn't a great place to be for him to be.

"What, you got into a fight? He turned into an asshole? That happened with all of my brothers." Mickey tried to help him along and to lighten the mood a little.

Gallagher huffed out an angry sounding laugh. "Yeah we did, and yeah he did. But it's mainly me though." He looked sternly at Mickey, "You can keep a secret?"

"Sure, you're keeping one for me right?" Mickey smiled sadly at him.

"I have Bipolar disorder." Gallagher said abruptly, sounded very sober all of the sudden. And he looked at Mickey defiantly like he expected Mickey to fight him about it somehow.

"Bipolar disorder?" Mickey had no idea what that was, he admitted that it didn't sound too good. But then, few things followed by the word 'disorder' sounded like much fun.

Gallagher sat in silence for a minute, like he didn't know how to explain it, like he wished he didn't have to.

"It's like my mood has two extreme opposites, like the north and south pole. On one hand, I sometimes feel like I'm on fire for long periods of time. I have crazy amounts of energy, I hardly sleep, my sex drive is through the roof, my thought are spinning twenty-four hours a day."

Gallagher looked at Mickey intently while he explained, Mickey got the feeling he was searching his face for signs that his story made Mickey uneasy.

Gallagher took a deep breath and pressed on, "But then, after that, I get really depressed. It's like I've used up all my energy and I can't do anything at all. Sometimes it only lasts a few days but sometimes I can't get out of bed for weeks." He broke eye contact and glanced down at his hands. "It's under control right now, I on meds that really help and I see a therapist and everything. But it's like it's impossible for my family, and especially Lip, my brother, to see me for who I am now. I'm healthy now, I feel great, but when they look at me it's like they're just waiting for me to snap again."

Mickey had no idea what to say, he felt himself turn back to ashes after his earlier phoenix mode. He leaned forwards and put his hand on Gallagher knee, hoping that it would convey some of the things Mickey wished he could say out loud.

"And I don't really blame them," Gallagher continued, the words seemed to flow easier now that he'd started. "I was really terrible to them, for years. I stole Lip's identity and joined the army when I was seventeen, and once I took baby brother Liam with me on a road trip without telling anyone. I didn't bring any food, or money or anything, I just left. The police found us before we got very far, but still."

"Shit, Ian." Mickey hoped that he sounded compassionate and not like he was judging. Mickey had done a lot of dumb things in his life but that was just because he'd been a selfish asshole.    

"And there was a lot of drugs and random guys, and then the depression of course. So I get that they have a hard time trusting me now. But it's hard, you know?" He looked back at Mickey, his eyes a little wet.

Mickey carefully stroked his knee.

"Yeah."

"And then Lip came home and I was really excited to see him and it took him maybe thirty minutes before he started questioning me about my pills and if I'd been feeling down. And I just got so mother fucking mad.." He wiped the back of his hand over his eyes.

He didn't say anything else. He put his hand of Mickey's, squeezing slightly, and closed his eyes. Mickey decided to risk it. If he fell asleep he fell asleep.

A couple stops later he opened his eyes and signaled to Mickey that they were at his stop. Mickey let go of the other mans knee and stood up. Gallagher wobbled a little when he got up so Mickey put his hand back on his shoulder to stabilize him, it felt nice to be able to touch him like this. Especially when he couldn't find any appropriate words to say to him.

They walked in silence for a while. Mickey noted that they must live very close to each other. It would take him maybe fifteen minutes to walk home from here.

It was Gallagher who broke the silence, "I'm sorry. I know you asked what was wrong but this probably wasn't what you were expecting."

"Don't worry about it. You can tell me stuff," Mickey quickly jumped to console him. "I—I like knowing things about you," he said the words carefully, hoping that he hadn't said too much.   

Gallagher smiled a little at that and nudged Mickey shoulder with his own. They walked quietly for a few more minutes.

"If I can tell you things, does that mean I can ask you things too?" Gallagher questioned and came to a halt in front of a rundown house, very much like Mickey's own but without all the junk in the yard.

"You could try I suppose," Mickey allowed, curious about what he might want to know.

Gallagher looked nervously at him, his eyes darting between Mickeys eyes and the house behind him.

"Are you dating that other security guard?" He asked hurriedly, Mickey almost couldn't distinguish the words from each other.

"What?" Mickey asked dumbly. He tried to catch Gallaghers eyes to see if he could get more information from them then his words offered, but suddenly, Gallagher determinedly looked everywhere but Mickey face.

"Are you dating him? That pretty guy?"

" _That pretty guy'_?!" Mickey repeated incredulously and started laughing, mostly because he didn't know what else to do. "Oh man, where were you when he needed you tonight?"

Ian looked confused even though he still refused to meet Mickey eyes.

"No," Mickey told him. "I'm not dating him. I don't like him that way and he was just rejected by the girl of his dreams." 

"Oh, okay." Gallagher looked down at the ground but not before Mickey saw a blush spread across his well defined cheekbones that had nothing to do with his overconsumption of alcohol. "Good," he finished lamely.

" _'Good'_?" Mickey really had to stop repeating everything he said. He sounded like an idiot. But to his defense he had no idea what so ever about what was going on right now, so maybe he was an idiot.

"Yeah, good," Gallagher confirmed.

Then he finally looked up and he was smiling, Mickey was sure that there could be nothing better to see than Ian Gallagher smiling after you assured him that you were in fact not dating a pretty guy. He wasn't sure what it meant but he was sure that he would be thinking about that smile for god knows how long.

"Well, this is me. I should go to sleep now if I wanna get up at all tomorrow." Gallagher nodded towards the house.

"Yeah, good plan," Mickey said, still a little dazed from their baffling conversation.

Then, just as Mickey took a step away, Gallagher stretched out his hand and put it on Mickey's forearm, and even though he was wearing a sweater he could feel that electricity running through his body.

"Thanks for tonight, Mickey. Really."

He moved his hand away and walked up to the porch, leaving Mickey starring after him. Mickey had to force himself to turn around and start walking away.

He didn't know what any of this meant, maybe Gallagher just wanted to say thanks for getting him home in one piece, or for listening to his story. But whatever tonight had meant and whatever it would bring. There was no way his crush was going away anytime soon. 

     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ho, it's been a while I know. But at least this chapter is longer than usual. :) I wrote like half of it tonight and it's largely unedited. I really need to sleep now. All mistakes are my own. Hope you like it!


	6. Part one: chapter 6

A little over 12 hours after he'd been left dazed and confused outside the Gallagher family's house Mickey had almost managed to convince himself that he had just imagined the romantic undertone of Gallagher's behavior the night before. It wasn't like large amounts of alcohol hadn't made people act in ways they regretted the morning after before. He wasn't sure it would change anything even if Gallagher's feelings towards him _had_ evolved since last time it had been discussed. Mickey didn't do dating or boyfriends, and even if he'd wanted to try, where would he find the fucking time for it. The only problem was that Mickey's logic went straight out the window every time he saw him. The best thing would probably be to go back to necessary pleasantries only, but he would have to seriously up his game to succeed. Gallagher's charm worked like acid on his carefully polished surface. It was embarrassing really, he hadn't survived 23 years on the Southside only to be taken down by some giant muscular goof ball.  

Svetlana hadn't showed up for school, he figured she was probably at home watching the baby, so he was enjoying his lunch by himself in the sunshine. He realized there weren't going to be many more days like this now, there were almost more leaves covering the ground and tables surrounding him than in the trees. He let the fall sun warm his face while he contemplated the events of the night before. Whilst the situation with Gallagher had gotten murkier it had lifted his spirits immensely. The thought of Gallagher lusting for him combined with the nice weather, and the fries he'd gotten the expensive habit of buying every day made his lunch hour close to perfect, and then...

"I don't think you're supposed to take the plate outside the cafeteria area."

Show time. Mickey swallowed his mouthful and took a second to get his best pokerface on before he turned around to face Gallagher.

"Hey," he said and nodded to the redhead. He was a little taken aback with how different he looked from his usual happy-go-lucky appearance. He had noticeable dark rings under his eyes and his hair looked more like an honest to god actual bed head rather than a carefully styled fashionable one. He also looked a little nervous, with his hands in his pockets, looking down on Mickey, only meeting his eyes for a second before looking away. Nervous was something Mickey hadn't thought someone like Gallagher was capable of being. And just like he'd come to expect of himself whenever the other man was involved, he couldn't bring himself to not care. Or even to pretend that he didn't. His whole persona was like a giant bate that Mickey couldn't help but jump after.

"Rough morning?" Mickey grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the table and offered it to him, but Gallagher only shook his head and took one hand out of the pocked of his sweatshirt, showing a pack of his own.

Gallagher lit a cigarette and took a drag. "To put it mildly." He looked somewhere left of Mickey's shoulder and kicked the gravel a little with his foot. "Look, I'm sorry about last night. It was really dumb and unprofessional of me to—"

Mickey raised his hand in the air to try and stop the apology. "Like a said yesterday, don't worry about it."

Gallagher sighed and glanced up at Mickey face, looking more than a little embarrassed. He sat down next to Mickey on his bench, twisting and turning his pack in his hands.

"Just let me say this man, I'm not really supposed to drink anymore.. with my meds and everything... and I usually don't but, yeah. And it's really fucking embarrassing that you had to help me home but I just wanted to say thanks." He glanced up again, his face was a little flush but this time he held their eye contact. "And that it won't happen again."

Mickey could feel his face reddening quickly, he didn't really know what to say that wouldn't come out as flippant or rude. So for once, Mickey went for the truth instead.

"I really didn't mind...helping you." It came out quiet, almost strangled and Mickey would have immediately regretted his sentiment if it hadn't been for the way Gallagher's eyes went wide open with something that looked like disbelief. Mickey's heart swelling at the sight, but none of them looked away or said anything, the air was buzzing with tension. After a while Gallagher gave him a little unsure smile and looked away. Mickey instantly missed it, the intense moment had had a calming effect on him, and as soon as their eye contact was broken Mickey felt unsure of what to do.

"But, uh, you're okay with the..the thing? The bipolar stuff?" 

" _The thing_ ," Gallagher laughed bitterly, "Yeah I'm alright."

Mickey wondered briefly if he'd said something wrong but Gallagher quickly went on.

"I mean, yesterday was just me being a fucking dumbass. But sometimes I just want to say 'fuck it' you know? Like, I've still got to be allowed to live my life and _be_ a dumbass sometimes even though I'm bipolar." He shook his head and smiled sadly at Mickey. "Still, I probably could do a little better keeping my routines and stuff in general. Studying all day and working all night isn't the smartest thing for me to do, but the bills got to be paid, right?" He stubbed out the cigarette on the ashtray place on the table. "But it's fine, no immediate breakdowns on the horizon."

Mickey watched the other man stare at the ashtray apprehensively, feeling bad he'd asked him about it when it clearly wasn't Gallagher's favorite thing to talk about.  

"Hey, I'm sorry. It's cool if you don't wanna talk about it."

"No, it's okay." He glanced at Mickey shyly, his blush coming back again. "I don't know what it is about you but I just can't seem to shut the hell up whenever you're around."

Mickey decided that there must certainly some serious witch craft behind those eyes, because even despite the unbelievable words coming out of Gallagher's mouth, Mickey felt oddly relaxed.

"Oh."

Unfortunately Mickey couldn't think of anything else to say. So he just sat there, mouth half open and staring mesmerized back at Gallagher.

Gallagher seemed to have some troubles of his own, still blushing furiously, he reached over and grabbed a few fries of off Mickey's plate. Strangely, Gallagher's red face did not make him any less attractive. If Mickey really thought about it, he had found the other man hot as fuck no matter the situation. Happy, hung over, and drunk off his ass, Mickey still had wet dreams about him all the fucking time. Lately he'd even hade absurd daydreams about kissing him, something that had never really been Mickey's thing. Not on the mouth anyway. Kisses on other body parts he definitely enjoyed. But the thought of Ian Gallagher pressing his mouth against his own, and his tongue pushing inside were all he had been thinking about the last couple of weeks.            

And now he could add the image of Gallagher eating fries to his list of turn ons, really, it was getting ridiculous. Another glance from Gallagher made Mickey aware of that he was still sitting with his mouth open like some idiot and he quickly reclaimed his fries and started stuffing his face with the last of it. His eyes firmly pointed away from the man.

They sat like that for a few minutes, eating fries, not looking at each other. But soon the sun disappeared behind the clouds and lunch hour was almost up.

"Come on." Mickey stood up. "You missed a killer story from Mr. Collins yesterday, I wanna hear if there's a sequel."

Gallagher huffed a laugh and put his pack back into his pocket, he looked expectantly between Mickey and the plate left sitting on the table.

"What about the plate?"

"Who cares." Mickey rolled his eyes. "They have cleaners, I know this for sure because I applied for a job on their janitorial staff but the position had _already been filled,_ " he mocked, "position filled my ass, they just saw my tattoos and said decided to go in another direction. Even a school this far down the crapper loves to pretend they're part of the elite."

"That's it. Let it out, Mick," Gallagher joked and got up. "You're such a badass."

"You bet I am." He held the door up for them, and he didn't miss the way Gallagher slid past him way closer than necessary and looking down on him with a big smile on his face.

________

Mickey had never been in a situation before where he found it so damn impossible to control himself. Mr. Collins started the class with showing a half hour long interview with Allen Ginsberg and as soon as he turned down the lights Mickey found himself inching closer and closer to Gallagher's seat. Soon enough they were close enough that they're shoulders were almost touching. Gallagher's hands were lying just on the line that separated their desks, his pinky and ring finger on Mickey's side.  It wasn't exactly making it easier for him to keep his eyes of off the other man when Gallagher kept looking at him. The smiles from before had disappeared. His eyes seemed darker now, he hungrily ran his eyes over Mickey's face and torso, and his hand kept coming closer.   

There seemed to be an opportunity here, despite their agreement to just be friends, and despite his own hesitation to attempt a relationship outside of the fuck-buddy realm. But just as he already knew, his reasoning skills all but vanished when faced with Ian Gallagher. The only thing really holding him back at this point was the memory of Gallagher's own words, spoken when Mickey had first tried to ask him out. He wasn't looking for anything.

But then again, Mickey didn't know what to make of the way Gallagher was looking at him _now_. Mickey might not be a social butterfly exactly, but he'd had enough human contact in his life to know that people don't fucking look at their friends like they're undressing them with their eyes. Gallagher was by far the most confusing person Mickey had even encountered.

Mickey met Gallagher's gaze and felt the familiar electricity run through his body, his body reacting to it in an entirely inappropriate way. He felt himself go hard under the desk and he quickly turned away from Gallagher and squared his feet on the floor just like he'd done the first time he saw Gallagher. He'd been looking at Mickey like he liked what he saw then too.

He hardly had time to focus on what was happening on the screen before he felt a large hand stroking his thigh and coming to rest over his crotch, and Mickey could swear he passed out for a second until the hand started moving, then he was sure he was awake and alert. He glanced over with an look on his face that he was sure told Gallagher that he felt both panicked and aroused. Gallagher only smiled slightly at him while slowly stoking up and down Mickey's jeans clad length and raised a eyebrow slightly, asking Mickey for permission to continue. All Mickey managed to do was to jerk his head in consent and try not to moan. Luckily they were in the back row so if he managed to keep his mouth shut the odds of somebody seeing what was happening was small.

Gallagher kept stroking his now completely hard cock firmly through his pants all the while staring intently at him. Mickey could felt himself leaking badly into his boxers and he couldn't help his loud intake of breath when Gallagher licked his lips. The redhead gave a grin of appreciation, apparently enjoying Mickey's messy display.

Just as he was getting close to coming in his pants like a 12 year old in a classroom cramped with people while Allen Ginsburg talked about sharing a bed with Jack Kerouac in the background, the movie ended and Mr. Collins turned on the lights and Gallagher removed his hand from Mickey's rock hard dick.

Mickey could have cried. From disappointment or relief he didn't know. He had a feeling he wouldn't have been able to keep an orgasm from Ian Gallagher quiet so it was probably for the best but he needed this to happen again, as soon as fucking possible.

Gallagher of course, looked happy as a clam in his chair, but a glance down his lap told Mickey that he weren't unaffected by the situation. He would have loved to give Gallagher some of his own medicine, but unfortunately there was still 30 minutes left of the class.               

30 minutes had never passed by so slowly before. Mickey spent the majority of the time trying to calm himself down with the breathing exercises Mandy had been doing since she began her celibate face. Gallagher seemed bent on not letting Mickey keep _any_ of his dignity the way he rubbed his foot with Mickey's foot every couple of minutes and snickered at Mickey's obvious attempts at getting rid of the boner he'd caused.

When the class finally ended and their classmates began leaving the room Mickey turned and glared at Gallagher.

"You think that was fun?" He got up and stalked out of the classroom with Gallagher following close behind.

Gallagher leaned in close to Mickey's ear. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it," he said with a smirk.

"I don't get you, first you flirt with me, then you wanna be friends and now you're— I don't know what you're doing!" Mickey tried to cover up the fact that he was actually serious by digging through his bag for his phone.

Gallagher had the decency to look a little ashamed of himself at that.

"I know, I'm sorry Mick." He put a hand on Mickey's arm, giving it a gentle stroke.

Mickey stared down at Gallagher's hand on his arm, thinking about where that hand had been only half an hour earlier. Then Gallagher's smile came back and he moved his hand up Mickey's arm and then down his chest.

"How about you follow me into the bathroom and let me finish what I started, and then we can talk about all the things we wanna do together."

Jesus, Mickey needed to sit down. Right now the man's stare didn't have the same soothing effect as it had had earlier, now Mickey suspected that if he would spontaneously combust if he didn't turn away from it. He looked at his phone just to have a reason to break eye contact with the other man.

"Shit, I have 11 missed calls from my sister," he said with disbelief, scrolling down his call list.

"Everything okay?" He heard Gallagher ask but Mickey was busy reading a text he'd gotten an hour earlier.

"Fuck. There's been a fight at the diner she works at and she needs money to bail her friend out of jail."

Of course Karen would be involved in the first real trouble the Milkovich siblings had seen for months. He knew that girl was trouble.

"Shit, you got any money?"

Mickey shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, _for food_." It was just his luck that something like this was gonna happen just as he'd practically been promised the sex he'd been dreaming about for weeks. This day was gonna wind up giving him whiplash. "I'm sorry, I gotta go. Milkoviches and cops doesn't really go together."

He took a step back from Gallagher, internally waving good bye to whatever could have happened in the handicapped bathroom just a few feet away from them if it hadn't been for Karen fucking Jackson.

But Gallagher reached out and stopped him just as he was turning away.

"Wait, I think I know someone who could help you out."

Mickey stared at Gallagher in confusion as he took out his own phone and went to his lists of contacts and pressed call.

 "Hey Fiona, it's me. Tell me, how in love with you is Tony these days?" He smiled at Mickey who didn't know who Tony was, or how his relationship with Gallagher's sister was gonna help him with his situation.

"Like, he thinks you're nice to look at or he would help get your brother's friend's sister's friend out of jail?"

Gallagher nodded encouragingly at Mickey and gave a thumbs up with his free hand. "Any chance you could meet us at the police station in like an hour? Awesome, thanks Fi." He hung up the phone and smiled triumphantly at the shorter man in front of him.

"What just happened?" Mickey questioned.

"I hooked you up with a whipped cop, that's what," Gallagher laughed. "Now come on!"

He pulled Mickey down the hall by the arm and Mickey had no option but to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know what they teach you at community college english courses so I'm just improvising.  
> I know this was short, I'll try to get next chapter up faster. If you review I'll love you forever <3
> 
>  


	7. Part one: chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote like half of this today and now it's 2 am and I'm about to pass out but I really wanted to get this up for you tonight. I have already started on the next chapter so if everything goes according to plan it will be up relatively soon. Thanks for sticking with me. Comments and kudos give me life.

Mandy was cooking them dinner. He could tell by the smell of something slightly burnt spreading through the house. Usually, "cooking" in their house meant pasta and ketchup, but after the days ordeal Mandy had decided that they deserved something special. By that she meant that she was adding fish sticks to the usual pasta/ketchup combo and had bought them chocolate chip ice cream for dessert.

Mickey was lying face down on his bed when the smell of burned fish reached his nose and he burrowed his head further into the mattress. After the day he'd had all he wanted was some peace and quiet. He pressed a pillow over his head in an attempt to block out the sound of Mandy and Karen laughing in the kitchen and Collins music from his room next to Mickey's. But he couldn't turn off his head and ever since they'd left the police station it had been obsessing over his phone. Checking it every 30 seconds, listening for any potential buzzing, and feeling after it in his pocket to make sure it was still there. A little while ago he'd gotten sick of his behavior and thrown the upsettingly quiet piece of technology where he couldn't reach it. But still, he thought about it. It was still early, maybe it would ring soon...

"Hello? Are you naked in there?"

Karen's voice was unmistakable even through the door and the pillow.

"Whatever it is you want, Mandy can help you," Mickey grunted against the bed.    

It was no secret that Mickey thought Karen Jackson was an unnecessary addition to Mandy's small group of allies. But not because she'd rejected his ungentlemanly advances back when he was fifteen and only showered monthly like Mandy thought. She was just bad news. And that wasn't something a person could wash off with a little soap and a loufa. Mickey knew that for sure, he saw it in his own face every day in the mirror. And shit had a tendency to burst into flames around people like them, that's why he hadn't been thrilled that Mandy and Karen suddenly seemed to be attached by the hip. 

So earlier at the station, when Mandy explained what had happened and that Karen had come to her heroine-esque rescue, Mickey had to admit that it wasn't what he had expected.

When they'd made it to the station Mandy had been furiously pacing back and forth by the entrance, her hands balled into fists and her hair flying through the air every time she aggressively spun around. No Milkovich made it through adolescence without developing a hostile attitude towards any and all representatives of "the system". Gallagher had been smirking at him the whole way there and Mickey was desperate for an excuse to turns his attention to something else. So he gladly took the opportunity to try to calm Mandy down just so he could stop pretending Gallaghers eyes didn't make him sweat.   

Mandy had been so upset about the situation that she hadn't immediately recognized Gallagher. First, she told him how Karen had mildly assaulted a customer at the Waffle House because the creep had pinched Mandy's ass and loudly told the entire diner that he preferred her buns to the waffles she'd served him.

To Mickey, that sounded more like justice than a crime but he and the law enforcement rarely saw eye to eye on issues like these. In any case, he felt a certain respect and gratitude towards the blond girl for the first time since he'd met her.

That did _not_ mean he wanted her knocking on his door.

"So you _are_ naked?"

Mickey sighed heavily and sat up, he glanced at his phone where it lay on a pile of clothes in the corner—still nothing.

"Why the fuck would I be naked, we got back like 20 minutes ago."

He walked to the door and flung it open, revealing an amused looking Karen.

"So you usually _do_ get naked when you're alone in your room, it just takes you longer than 20 minutes to undress?"

"What do you want?"  

He barged passed her out into the kitchen, suddenly hankering for a smoke. Mandy was waving a spatula over the stove trying to disperse the smoke from the burned fish sticks.

"Hey assface, dinner's almost ready."

Mickey glanced down the frying pan suspiciously, "I think eating that could give us lung cancer."

"You cook next time then!" She slapped him over the shoulder with the spatula. "Sit your ass down."

Obediently, he took a seat and lit a cigarette. Taking a drag with a sigh as Karen came and sat down next to him. She no longer had on the mocking smile from before. For once, she looked uncomfortable and almost shy. She picked at the pile of mail and magazines scattered across the table.

"So, I just wanted to... say thanks I guess. For helping me."  

Mandy come to stand between them, placing the food on the table and Mickey hurried to help himself to some pasta.

"I really only came down because of Mandy." He ignored the second smack of the evening Mandy gave him, and loaded his plate up with the least burned pieces of fish.

"Yeah, but thanks anyway. And for bringing your friend. Who's totally hot by the way, is he single?"

He silently thanked Mandy but was honestly a little surprised that Karen didn't already know about the complex relationship between Mickey and his totally hot friend.  
  
Mickey felt his palms starting to sweat again at the mere mention of the man. He stammered for an appropriate answer and glanced towards his room, the sound on his phone was on so if it had rung he would have heard it.

"Uh.. he's not.. uh, yeah, I mean yes. Sort of. At the moment." He was almost thankful when Mandy interrupted him by laughing loudly over her food.

"God Mickey, you need to get over him or under him ASAP, this is getting to be too much." She swallowed her mouthful and shook her head disbelievingly. "I know I said there's no way out of the friend zone, but that dude was staring at you like you were the last ripe apple of the season." She shook her head again and reached for the ketchup bottle. "You could totally hit that."

Karen groaned, "He's gay?"

Mickey remembered how Gallagher had handled Mickey's dick like a pro from an awkward angle and through his jeans and boxers just a few hours ago.

"I'd say so." 

"Figures... So, you getting on that ride or what?" Karen wiggled her eyebrows and Mandy gave another snort.

Mickey flicked a piece of pasta at her and it hit her right in the cleavage, then he couldn't help but glance towards his room again.

If he'd known that giving Gallagher his number was gonna give him an ulcer he might have just left the state and hoped that the added distance would allow him to return to his usual state of constant indifference towards the whole institution of romantic feelings.

But he _had_ given him his number and now he was paying for it. He blamed Mandy. If she hadn't been so intent on fighting with the police officers Mickey and Gallagher wouldn't have had so much alone time to fill up with talking. Mandy had only paid attention to them for long enough for Gallaghers sister to show up, then she'd made a crude gesture to Mickey behind Ian's back and run off.

And then Gallagher had turned the smirk up to full power again and pulled Mickey into a secluded area at the side of the building where cigarette butts were scattered all over the ground, it was probably where the cops went to hide their smoking habits from the easily impressionable youth of Chicago.

It had just barely been room enough for two people but Gallagher seemed to think that it wasn't necessary for them to keep that much space between them anyway. He'd only been a breath away and Mickey hadn't known where to look. He'd settled for the small space between Gallagher's eyes. All he wanted was for Gallagher to put his hands on him again, but he'd had no idea how to tell him. Getting freaky in public had never been his thing but right then and there he couldn't have cared less.

Luckily Gallagher had figured out Mickey's wish all on his own and put his hands on Mickey's waist and then slowly slid his hands up his chest. Mickey could have died. For all the sex he'd had in his life it had never been particularly sexy. It had been all kinds of good but sex to Mickey had until now been about appeasing his need for sex. Not his need for a specific person.

So when Gallagher leaned forward so that his face was in Mickey's hair, his mouth to Mickey's ear while his thumbs at the same time had graced his nipples, Mickeys whole body shivered.

"So, I think we should do this somewhere else sometime soon," Gallagher whispered.

Mickey had grabbed Gallagher's hips and pulled him closer as Gallaghers hands finished their torturous journey up Mickey's body. Gallagher had then placed his hands on the wall behind them, squaring Mickey in.

"My phone's in my right pocket," Gallagher said and bent his head down and pressed a kiss to the hollow behind Mickey's ear.

And fuck, if that wasn't just about everything Mickey had wanted since he met the other man, he could hardly bring himself to listen to what he was _saying_. His lips had been warm and his breath on Mickey's skin had made goose bumps spread over Mickey's neck. He'd groaned with pleasure and gripped Gallagher harder and he pressed their groins together. He could feel Gallagher growing hard under his jeans.

"My phone," Gallagher repeated. He pulled back a little and looked at Mickey with amusement in his eyes when Mickey ignored him for the second time and went in for a taste of Gallaghers neck. "I would grab it myself but, technically, your hands are closer to my pocket."      

So Mickey reluctantly removed his lips from Gallaghers skin and put his hand in his pocket, it had been his turn to smirk at Gallaghers the sharp intake of breath when Mickey's fingers lingered a second over Gallaghers half hard dick through the fabric of the pocket.

He'd pulled the phone out and handed it to Gallagher, who let go of the wall but stayed close enough that Mickey had still been able to feel the heat coming of his skin. Gallagher unlocked his phone and handed it back to Mickey.

"Number."

Mickey eagerly put his number in and then slid the phone back into Gallagher's pocket. Gallagher had smiled big at him and leaned in to kiss Mickeys cheek quickly before he swiftly turned around and walked back towards the entrance doors. Mickey had let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and waited a second for his blush and semi-boner to go down before he followed the redhead inside.

And now he was eating fish sticks and praying for his damn phone to ring. 

______

When dinner was done and another two hours of phone staring had gone by (without as much as a text), Mickey decided to take a shower. It wouldn't get his mind of  Gallagher but at least he'd be thinking about him while looking at the tile of the bathroom wall instead of his phone for ten minutes. It also meant a break from Collin, who'd been interrogating Mickey about their drug stash since he'd come home half an hour earlier. Mickey had told him that the police had found everything when Collin and the other's had been arrested. But the truth was he still had some. He'd gotten the stash out of the house before the police had time to get there and later he'd buried it in the yard. He'd thought of getting rid of it but honestly, he wasn't ready to get rid of that much quality shit. He might very well need to skip town someday and working at the club hardly made him rich. Those drugs well his fail-safe, a stash of theoretical fuck-you money. If Collin got his hands on it, it would end in one of two ways: either he'd spend the rest of the year with a needle in his arm, or he'd try to sell it and get them all thrown in jail.

They were running low in hot water but there was still enough for Mickey to have time to let his mind take him back to the dark classroom earlier, only in his imagination there weren't 30 people around them and him and Gallagher were skin to skin. He soaped himself up, imagining the red heads hands running up and down his body instead of his own.

That's when he heard it.

"Mickey's phone."   

Mickey had never moved so fast before. He sprinted out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist and ran out of the bathroom, water still running and soap still all over his body. Collin was lying on the couch with Mickey's phone pressed to his ear.

"I'm his brother, who the hell are you?" Collin questioned the person on the phone.

His face scrunched up at whatever answer the person on the other side of the line gave him and Mickey slapped the phone from his hand, causing it to fly across the room, crash to the floor and slide under the TV bench.

"What the fuck are you doing answering my phone?" Mickey slapped Collin over the head and hurried to retrieve the phone.    

"What? You were in the shower!" Collin defended himself, "Looks like you still should be by the way."

Mickey gave him the finger with as much attitude as he could while still hanging on to the towel and bending down to get the phone on the floor, but the low sound of a familiar man's voice coming from the receiver made him forget all about his brother. He walked to his room and shut the door before putting the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" Gallagher sounded breathless, it sounded like he was walking through a storm.

"Yeah, hi." Mickey couldn't help but smile into the phone. He was in so much trouble.

"Just to be sure, this is Mickey right?"

"Yeah, sorry about my brother, I was in the shower." Mickey grabbed the corner of the towel to wipe the side of his face where he held the phone.

"Oh, that's... quite the image," Gallagher said, Mickey wasn't sure it he imagined the suggestive tone in his voice or not. "Though I probably shouldn't think too much about it until I finish my shift tonight, I might be an erotic dancer but I gotta at least try to keep it classy." 

Okay, so he hadn't imagined it, Mickey could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"Any chance I'll see you at the club tonight?" Gallagher asked.

"Sorry, day off. You on your way there now?"

If Mickey hadn't been so exhausted from working almost every night the last couple of weeks he might have taken an extra shift just to see him.

"Yeah I am," Gallagher sighed, "Well, there's always tomorrow I guess." They fell silent for a minute. The strong wind surrounding Gallagher the only sound on the line. "So.. Can I buy you a cup of coffee after class tomorrow?" He suddenly sounded a little nervous, like even though Mickey had actually asked him out before and even though he'd been coming undone under his touch twice today, Gallagher somehow wasn't sure he would say yes.

Mickey's heart was in his throat, and his answer came out almost as breathless as Gallagher's despite sitting still on his bed.

"Yeah, alright."

"Hah! Yes!" Gallagher cheered.

Mickey would have thought that his answer would have been as obvious as the sun in the sky to the other man, but as long as he was happy he wasn't about to question it.

"Okay. See you tomorrow then. I'm gonna go not think about you all wet and slippery in the shower."

Mickey huffed out a load laugh, suddenly feeling lighter and more confident than he had all night.

"You might be interested in  knowing that I'm gonna go back to the shower now and I'm definitely gonna think about you."

To Mickey's delight, Gallagher groaned loudly, "Fuck. I'm gonna make you pay for that you know."

Mickey laughed again, "Can't wait. See ya."

He hung up the phone and fell back on the bed, he took a moment to collect himself before getting up and following through on his promise. He spent the rest of the hot water thinking long and hard about every aspect if Ian Gallagher.

______

By lunch the next day, he had lost every ounce of confidence and was back to feeling nervous. Svetlana was talking about some documentary about kidnappers she'd seen on TV, Mickey made humming noises at regular intervals but was really focused on looking round the cafeteria for a certain redhead.

"And the parents go on TV, begging for their babies. Saying please to the monster. Someone who takes babies have no soul. If it was me, I would find the soulless bastards and jam screwdrivers through their tiny soulless balls."

"Uh huh, sure." Mickey nodded.

He craned his neck as a new flock of people flooded through the doors, and sure enough, there he was. He was dressed in a simple white tee and jeans and looking insanely good as always. Mickey instantly regretted the time he'd put into his outfit earlier that morning. Since he usually dressed in worn out jeans and faded t-shirts any attempts he made to look good seemed like extreme makeovers. He smoothed down his dark purple button-down self consciously and shrunk down a little in his chair to hide the fact that he'd been looking for Gallagher. 

Gallagher somehow seemed to sense that Mickey had been watching him because he turned around and looked straight at Mickey and smiled.   

"Hello? Are you listening to me?" Svetlana waved a hand in front of Mickey face, trying to reclaim his attention. She turned around in her chair to see what Mickey was looking at and rolled her eyes when she sound his target.

Gallagher who was paying for his food glanced back at their table every couple of seconds and blushing a little when he saw that Mickey was still looking at him.

"Why am I not surprised. You know, when you two get married. Remember that I said it first," Svetlana said and shook her head slightly.

Mickey looked away from Gallagher to roll his eyes at Svetlana, "Shut up."

"See, you are not even denying it anymore."

He gave her the finger and turned his eyes back to Gallagher who was now making his way towards their table. It was only then that Mickey realized that he wasn't alone. Mickey recognized the man with the surfer look he had seen Gallagher with once before. He saw Svetlana raise her eyebrows at the other man and she threw a quick look at Mickey. He shrugged his shoulders as discreetly as he could.

"Hey Mickey," Gallagher said happily and placed his tray at the edge of the table. "Svetlana," He nodded respectfully at her before turning to his friend. "This is Tommy, Tommy this is Mickey and Svetlana."

They all nodded politely at each other, Gallagher sat down opposite of Mickey. Tommy, however, remained standing. Something Mickey was thankful off, at least until he knew what the deal was with him and Gallagher.

"Tommy used to work at the club when I first started working there," Gallagher explained as he dug into his food.

"Yeah, I just wanted to meet the man who managed to whip Tobias in line," Tommy smiled friendly at Mickey.

"There has been no whips involved, I promise," Mickey tried to joke. It seemed like a good idea not to immediately repel Gallagher's friends. He just hoped all off Gallagher's friends weren't hot dancers, that would definitely worsen his prospects.

"I bet there were when he tells the story," Tommy laughed, "Anyway I gotta go, see you guys later." He nodded to Mickey and Svetlana again and walked away.

The three of them who remained at the table fell into silence. Gallagher chewed his food rather noisily and grinned at the two of them, who were both observing him closely.

"So, what are we talking about?" Gallagher asked between bites.

"Baby-nappers," Svetlana told him and pointed to Mickey, "but he has been distracted."

"Is that so?" Gallagher raised his eyebrows at Mickey and moved one of his feet under the table so that it pressed lightly against Mickey's.

"Well, I'm sorry but we all don't lie awake at night thinking about how best to torture kidnappers," Mickey defended himself and threw Svetlana an vicious look, but he didn't take his foot away. Instead, he pressed it lightly against Gallagher and did his best to not blush when Gallagher have him his most dazzling smile. He was of course, entirely unsuccessful which made Gallagher grin even harder.    

"My kid sister stole a baby once when she was younger," Gallagher offered offhandedly, too busy with rubbing his foot against Mickey to notice the shocked looks the others gave him.

"She stole a baby?!" Svetlana repeated unbelievingly,

"Yeah, she was crazy about babies for a few years, but she just wanted to play with him," Gallagher rushed to explain, "we had to go all Mission: Impossible to get him back to his folks without getting caught by the police."

"Christ, how many stories like these do you have?" Mickey shook his head in disbelief. "Someone should make a movie about your family."

"Yeah, but we'd all wind up in jail," Gallagher said and got up even though he'd only had a few bites of his food. "Come on, Mick, I promised Mr. Collins my first day here that I wouldn't be late again and I am no liar."

Mickey hurried and got out of his chair. There was something about the way Gallagher shortened his name that made him all warm inside. It sounded right to him, familiar, like it was only gonna be a matter of time before it wasn't strange that they had nicknames for each other.

They waved goodbye to Svetlana, Mickey was endlessly grateful that she waited until Gallagher had turned his back to make a kissy face at him and hold up her left hand and wave a bedazzled ring finger at him. 

____

The walk to class was silent. They walked close enough that their arms touched a few times but none of them said anything about it. Mickey felt like they were already on a date. He had tried to figure out what had changed between two days ago, when he'd still been sure nothing was ever gonna happen between them and now. So far he'd come up empty. But he were not about to complain, he just hopped that the situation would clear up on its own.

They took their seats just as Mr. Collins began his lecture. Mickey quickly gave up on listening as Mr. Collins talked about the movie from the day before, which he had no earthly idea what it had been about. He shifted his focus to Gallagher instead. He was doodling in his notebook, only looking up occasionally to glance at Mickey through his lashes.     

Mickey tried to keep his mind off what had happened in the exact same seats exactly 24 hours ago. He also tried to not think of Gallagher's insinuation from the day before that it might happen again. Though it had only been a few days since he last got laid he felt like it had been years, and Gallagher was right there smiling at him and he'd placed his foot back next to Mickey's. With their feet and shins pressing against each other, electricity ran from Mickey's foot straight up to his brain, making his attempts at keeping his mind PG completely unachievable. 

When the class finally ended, and Gallagher removed his foot to stand up Mickey's whole body went slack for a second, exhausted from the tension he'd been filled with throughout the whole hour. He hurried to get his body under control before Gallagher noticed that Mickey wasn't even capable of _sitting_ next to him and cancelled all other more physically demanding activities.

Mickey listened to Gallagher babbling about last night's shift at the club on their way out of the building. By the way Gallagher kept looking at him to see that Mickey was still listening was the only way Mickey could tell that he wasn't the only one who was nervous. He also realized that it probably wasn't fun to go on a date with someone who didn't talk back. It was all thanks to Gallagher that it wasn't completely silent—he really needed to step his game up.

So he started asking questions. He'd never been any good at talking about himself but had grown very fond of listening to Gallagher talk about pretty much anything. Before he knew it, Gallagher was telling him the whole kidnapping story and Mickey was having trouble walking he was laughing so much. When he'd pulled himself together he looked around and realized that he had no idea where they were going.

"Do actually know where we're going? Because I don't."

"I promised you coffee didn't I?" Gallagher asked.

Mickey smiled at him and nodded.

"Actually, you can have anything you want from the menu. Coffee, Tea, a shot of whiskey maybe..?" Gallagher gave him a smile. "The standard diner assortment is the limit!"

Mickey raised his eyebrows, "Do you think I look like a tea person?"

"I'll have you know that tea is very versatile drink with many advantages." Gallagher looked a little offended at Mickey dismissal of what was apparently his drink of choice. 

"If you say so, but I think I'll stick with coffee."

Gallagher gave him a smile, "I know a place nearby."

 He lead Mickey to a diner where a gruff looking man with a shirt saying "Patsy's Pies" welcomed them from his place behind the counter.

"Ian! Long time no see. How are you?" He looked and smiled warmly at Gallagher gave Mickey a curious glance.

"Hey Sean, I'm alright. Business is good I see?"

"Yeah, we're doing alright. What can I get you kids?"

"A cup of coffee for Mickey here and I'll have a cup of tea, Rooibos if you have it."

Mickey couldn't help but roll his eyes at that, hot water as hot water. Gallagher kicked Mickey's foot lightly when he saw the face Mickey made at his order.

"I want what I want." He gave Mickey's foot one last kick and walked passed him and sat down at a table near the back. 

Mickey followed him but instead of sitting down on the chair opposite of Gallagher Mickey opted for the seat in the booth next to him. He slid in close to the other man and put his foot where it had been in class. Gallagher scooted even closer so that their arm were almost touching. Mickey nerves from before had passed completely and he found himself really enjoying himself.

Sean came over with their drinks and gave them a wink before walking away.

"So, you're like a regular here or what?" Mickey asked.

"Nah, Fiona used to work here so we were here all the time. It's been a while now though," Gallagher explained, blowing on his tea before taking a sip.

"You really don't drink coffee?" Mickey had a hard time believing someone could get by coffee.

"A cup here and there but it doesn't really go with my meds." Gallagher shrugged his shoulders, "I hated it in the beginning but now I'm really digging tea, it's soothing as hell."

"Huh." Mickey took a sip of his own drink, contemplating a life without caffeine, "Are there a lot of stuff you can't eat? Or do?"

To be honest he hadn't really thought about it. He'd thought that as long as you took your meds you were fine.

"There's some stuff yeah, it's not too much of a bother now when I'm used to it but, yeah." Gallagher looked down at the table, stirring his tea with his spoon even though there was nothing in it to stir.

Mickey though maybe this was an off bound topic, he remembered that the smile that seemed to be permanent on Gallagher's face had disappeared every time the disorder had been mentioned.

But then Gallagher continued, "The most important thing is that I stick to my routines. I wake up the same time every day no matter what my plans are, I eat at the same time, I should go to bed the same time too but that's not really an option as long as I'm still working at the club."

"Sounds like it could be hard sometimes," Mickey said honestly. His own life had never been controlled by routines, not routines like Gallagher was describing at least. He had plenty of experience with destructive routines.

"I guess, but it's for the better. It keeps me stable. I live every grumpy grandparent's dream. Apart from the fact that I dance in my underwear in front of strangers five nights a week."

Mickey bit back a laugh, "Do you spend all your free time listening to the radio and complaining about today's youth?"

Gallagher looked relived when Mickey went along with the lighter conversation. "Definitely, these _damn kids_  with their skateboards and  _their hope for the future."_

 _"_ And their goddamn fancy tea." Mickey continued.

Gallagher laughed and nudged Mickey with his shoulder. "You gotta tell me a little about you. Basically all I know is where you work and that you're hot as hell."

Mickey blushed furiously at that. Immediately feeling out of his comfort zone he searched for words, "I don't know... I have a sister. But you already know that."  

"Yeah, she seems nice, but I think I was a little afraid of her in high school.

"She's a fucking bitch," Mickey said proudly, "She thinks that you grew up good. She said that you look like, and I quote 'one of those people that are so good looking that they get paid to hang out at clubs so that other people wanna be there'."

"She did not said that."

Mickey nodded at him, "I swear! She even asked me if I could take picture of you so she could hang it on her wall."

Gallagher looked pleased and bowed his head like he was thanking for the applause.

"Well, with a bit of luck maybe she'll get to see me in the flesh again sometime soon." He pierced Mickey with  a stare that would have made Mickey feel week at the knees if he hadn't already been sitting down. Gallagher moved closer and placed a hand on Mickey's thigh, just above his knee.       

"How about you let _me_ see you in the flesh first?" Mickey said, hoping that Gallagher couldn't hear the quiver in his voice. He wished that hand would move up and he wished that they weren't fucking always surrounded by people.

Gallagher laughed loudly and moved his hand up a few inches, "You're so lame, you know that?"

"Whatever grandpa," Mickey retorted and put his own hand on top of Gallagher's, guiding it up.

Their hands slowly made their way up Mickey's thigh until he was once again half hard under Gallagher's hand in a public place.

Gallagher leaned in, putting his mouth to Mickey's ear, "I want you, Mick." He massaged Mickey bulge and kissed the hollow of his ear. "I've wanted you from the first time I saw you."

Mickey opened his eyes, not exactly sure when when he had closed them. Everything suddenly felt too much for him, he couldn't bare sitting there another minute without getting to touch Gallagher the way he wanted, without being able to show him how much he was enjoying his hands and lips on his body.

"You wanna get out of here?"


	8. Part one: chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! Two chapters in two days. I am on fire!
> 
> Sooo, as you might have been able to tell from yesterday's update, there will be some smut. And I am not the most experienced of smut writer but I hope you'll enjoy it. ;)
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life.

They made it to the Milkovich house not a minute too soon. The whole way over they had sneaked little touches and cast burning looks at each other. All those weeks of longing and desire made Mickey feel raw with anticipating now that it was actually about to happen. Now he only prayed that nobody else was home. Mandy was at work and Collin was visiting the family in prison today, so with a bit of luck the house would still be empty.

They made it to the door and Mickey hurried to unlock it. Gallagher leaned against the doorframe next to him, watching his every move, just like he'd done ever since they left the diner.

He unlocked the door and held it open for Gallagher to go inside.

"Hello?!" Mickey shouted loud enough that even a sleeping Collin couldn't miss it. When there was no answer he gestured awkwardly to his messy home with one hand. "So, yeah. This is it."

"Cozy," Gallagher replied without looking away from Mickey. He took a few steps closer, forcing Mickey to back up against the door.

But while Gallagher certainly didn't seem to be interested in his home right now, Mickey nervously tried to fulfill the obligations of a host before he could move on to more pressing issues, like the fact that he'd never been so horny his entire life.

"Would you like a—"

"Later," Gallagher said and then he was on him. He pressed Mickey up against the shut door and pushed his jacket over his shoulders. Mickey tossed his keys to the side, not caring where they landed and helped Gallagher get his jacket all the way off. Mickey pulled Gallagher to him, slipping his hands underneath his jacket and t-shirt. Gallagher raised his arms and let Mickey pull them both off.

Mickey let his hands roam over Gallagher's waist and bare chest. Feeling him with his own hands was so much better than watching him dance at the club. He could see his chest rise and fall with each breath, he could feel the goose bumps where he stroked him and he could touch the trail of hair leading from his stomach and down his jeans.

"Jesus Christ, do you ever leave the gym?" Mickey wondered aloud at the sight of Gallagher's well sculpted body.

Gallagher laughed and bent down to put his lips to the base of Mickey's throat, sucking there, tasting his skin. Mickey moaned under Gallagher's treatment and he leaned his head back against the door to give him easier access to his neck. 

"Fuck, Ian." Mickey groaned and clawed at the man's back, desperate to get him closer.

At the sound of his name on Mickey's lips Gallagher's head shot up to meet Mickey's burning eyes with his own. They were both breathing heavily, Gallagher's mouth were half open and his lips wet from kissing Mickey's neck and Mickey couldn't hold back any more. He moved his hands up to Gallagher's head and pulled him down to his own level by the hair. He caught a glimpse of Gallagher's dilated pupils before Mickey, for the first time in his life, initiated a kiss.

It was a little clumsy maybe, their teeth and lips trying to fit together. Mickey kept his hands in Gallagher's hair, holding him as close as possible. Gallagher wormed his hands around Mickey's back, pulling him so close that they were pressed together head to toe. Mickey sucked on Gallagher's lower lip, growing bolder and taking it in his mouth. Gallagher traced Mickey's lips with his tongue, asking permission and Mickey gladly opened his mouth to accept him. He felt like he was floating, all there was the taste of Ian in his mouth and the feeling of his hands on the small of his back. Gallagher broke the kiss first, breathing heavily and leaning his forehead against Mickey's.

"Bed?" He asked and pressed his jeans-clad, hard cock against Mickey's pelvis, thrusting slightly, making Mickey exhale sharply.

Mickey nodded desperately against Gallagher's forehead and pushed them both of the wall. He slipped his fingertips underneath Gallagher's jeans and pulled him with him to his bedroom, they kicked their shoes off as they stumbled towards the bed.  

Mickey quickly undid the buttons on his shirt and on his jeans. Before they even made it to the bedside Mickey was down to his boxers. He pushed Gallagher down on the bed and straddled him. He looked down at the man lying underneath him, taking a second to count his luck before he bent down and pressed his lips to Gallagher's in a quick kiss. Gallagher moaned into his mouth and jerked his hips up urgently, grinding against Mickey. But Mickey took his time, slowly working his way down Gallagher's body, pressing open mouthed kisses to his throat, collar bone, nipple. He stopped there for a second when Gallagher let out low whine. He sucked and nibbled at one nipple while he rubbed the other one with his hand.

"Oh fuck, Mick. I need you." Gallagher put his hands on Mickey shoulder's and gently pushed him further down his body.

Mickey obliged and licked his way down his abs, marveled at the sculpted V-shape there. Mickey unbuttoned his jeans and Gallagher lift his hips up to help Mickey get them off. Mickey pulled the jeans off with Gallagher's boxers and socks. The sight he was rewarded with was glorious. Gallagher impressive cock was standing rock hard for him. Mickey moaned at the thought of having Gallagher fucking him hard and fast. But there was something Mickey had been thinking about ever since he'd felt Gallagher's erection through his pocket the day before outside the police station that he wanted to do first.

He bent down, kissing his way up Gallagher's thighs, looking up to silently ask for the go-ahead before he got to his dick.

"Oh god, yes. Please Mickey, please." Gallagher begged, lifting himself up on his elbows so that he could see better.

Pleased with Gallagher's enthusiasm Mickey continued and put his lips at the base of his cock, pressing a sloppy kiss there. Gallagher spread his legs, giving Mickey room to get comfortable on his knees between them.

Gallagher let out a long whine when Mickey licked his way from the base to the head. Tracing the slit with his tongue. He tentatively took him in his mouth, just the tip at first, minding his gag reflex. Gallagher went wild beneath him, egging Mickey on by groaning and pulling at his hair. Mickey took more of him into his mouth, and increased the speed. He loved how Gallagher seemed to have to restrain himself not to fuck himself up Mickey mouth. He sucked harder and added a swirl with his tongue around the head which made Gallagher completely collapse down on the bed and couldn't seem to stop himself from pushing Mickey's head down a little, making him choke.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Gallagher gasped. "Do that again, I'll be good."

In the past Mickey almost only gave blowjobs if he thought he would get one back, he'd never understood what was so hot about having someone's dick in your mouth. But now, he was a believer. He sucked around the head and jerked the rest of Gallagher's length with his hand and rolled his balls carefully with his other hand. He was rewarded with salty pre-cum and Gallagher desperate pleas for relief.

"Fuck, Fuck. I'm close. I'm gonna come if you don't stop."

It would have been a lie to say that Mickey didn't want to feel Gallagher explode into his mouth, and take all that he had to give him down his throat. But Mickey wasn't done yet, he was still painfully hard and he'd been dreaming of Gallagher's cock in his ass for too long now to postpone it any longer.

He pulled away and moved up Gallagher's body again. Kissing his mouth, letting him taste himself on Mickey's tongue.

"Shit, Mickey, that was amazing." Gallagher reached a hand down, palming Mickey's cock through his boxes. "Can I fuck you now?"

"I _need_ you too." Mickey gasped, rolled to the side and quickly got rid of the last piece of offending clothing.

Gallagher gave a low moan at his words and looked around for condoms and lube. "Where's your stuff?" He asked.

"Bedside table." Mickey said and nodded to the drawer next to Gallagher.

Gallagher quickly got to work, grabbing a condom and smearing lube on his fingers.

"Roll over." He demanded and Mickey hurried to comply.

He got back on his knees and closed his eyes in eagerness as he felt Gallagher coming up behind him, stroking his ass and giving his cheek a smack.

"Come on, do it," he begged.

Gallagher laughed behind him and circled Mickey's hole with one finger.

"Eager?" he slowly pushed a finger inside, digit by digit.

Mickey couldn't help the whimper escaping his lips, "You've been teasing me for day, trust me, I'm ready." He rocked himself back on Gallagher's finger, telling him to hurry the fuck up.

"Alright, alright." Gallagher laughed again and pushed another finger in.

He slowly worked Mickey asshole looser, circling his fingers, feeling for his prostate. When he found it, Mickey had to give up on trying to keep his pleasure quiet, he pressed his mouth into the mattress but his groan was still too loud to be muffled.   

"Don't do that, I wanna hear you," Gallagher said and pushed a third finger in. "You look so good, Mick, just like I've imagined it. Your ass is perfect."

Mickey didn't think he could take much more, he wasn't gonna last long as it was, and if Gallagher didn't finish prepping him soon, he wouldn't have time to feel what it's like to have Gallagher's cock inside him before he came.

"Fuck, I'm ready. Just get in me."

Gallagher withdrew his fingers and Mickey whined and the sudden emptiness. He waited as patiently as he could for Gallagher to get the condom on, but couldn't help but moaning a little for show to get him to hurry up.

"Shit, you sound so sexy when you do that, Mickey." Gallagher was behind him again, Mickey moaned again, for real this time, when he felt Gallagher hardness press against his ass.

When Gallagher finally pushed in, slowly at first to let Mickey get used to his cock inside him, Mickey almost combusted. Gallagher groaned as he went in deeper and deeper. Not stopping until he was balls deep. It was all Mickey had been craving. Despite all the prep it was on the verge of painful getting used to Gallagher's sizable length. But it was just the way he liked it, rough but tender at the same time.

Mickey's own dick somehow managed to grow even harder as Gallagher slowly began to move inside him.

"How does it feel, do you need a minute?" Gallagher asked breathlessly.

"Fuck no, go faster."

Gallagher started thrusting into him faster and faster, moaning like he was getting paid for it the whole time. Mickey gave a load cry when Gallagher reached around to wrap his hand around Mickey previously neglected dick while he kept pounding into his ass.

"I'm not gonna last, Shit Ian, I'm gonna come." Mickey warned as he rocked back and forth with Gallagher, taking him in all the way.

"Oh thank god, me neither." Gallagher's moan turned into a laugh and he jerked Mickey faster, focusing on Mickey's dick and letting Mickey fuck himself onto his cock.

Mickey was leaking badly and he slammed himself back harder. His orgasm started to build, and then with a loud cry he spilled his cum all over the bed and over Gallagher's hand. He buried his face in the mattress, saying Gallagher's name over and over like a mantra as Gallagher kept the pace up all through his orgasm.

"Fuck, Ian, that felt so good." Mickey whispered breathlessly with the last of his energy, "Keep going." He egged Gallagher on who was still hard inside him.

Gallagher let go of Mickey's dick and thrusted into Mickey jerkily a few times more before he came, he wrapped his arms around Mickey and bit down on Mickey's shoulder as he came inside him. After, without bothering to pull out first, he collapsing on top of Mickey.

"Holy shit." Mickey groaned weakly. Gallagher's body on top of his own felt very heavy but he didn't mind it at all.

"Yeah, holy fucking shit," Gallagher agreed. He slowly and with a lot of effort lifted himself up enough to pull out of Mickey, then he collapsed on the bed next to him, with an arm and a leg still draped over his body.

Mickey lifted his head off the mattress to look at the man beside him. "We're doing that again," he said decidedly.

Gallagher had closed his eyes but nodded anyway with a tired smile on his lips.

"Definitely, but you gotta give me a minute," he mumbled and stroked Mickey's back, gently scratching his nail down his spine, making Mickey shiver.

"That feels good," Mickey confessed. He was surprised by how natural it felt to be honest with Gallagher,    

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, gathering strength. Mickey was the first one to move, motivated by the fact that he was lying in a pool of his own semen. He got up from under Gallagher's arm and leg and went to find his boxers. Gallagher watched him from the bed, his naked body still a little flushed from the activity. Mickey picked up his jeans where they lay outside his room and searched the pockets for cigarettes.

"You want one?" He asked and waved the pack in the air.

Gallagher nodded and sat up against the headboard, to Mickey's great delight he didn't bother covering himself up.  

Mickey sat down next to him on the bed and lit him a cigarette. Gallagher accepted it and scooted closer, he leaned his head on Mickey shoulder.

"You feel good?" Gallagher asked and took a drag.

"Yeah." Mickey replied and looked down at the other man, "You?"

Gallagher kissed his shoulder, "I feel good," he gave a small laugh and lifted his head to kiss Mickey's ear, "I feel really fucking good."

They sat in silence after that, smoking and trading small kisses. Mickey was still feeling raw and honest, so he let the question that had been on his mind slip out of him.

"Why did you change your mind?"

Gallagher looked up at him questioning and Mickey felt a blush rise on his cheeks.

"About me," he clarified.

Gallagher sat up straight, looking horrified at Mickey's implication, "I told you it wasn't about you!"

Mickey rolled his eyes to the floor. "You realize that ' _it's not you, it's me_ ' is probably the most common lie in the world, right?"

"Shit, you're right." He slammed his palm to his forehead, "I feel like such an ass right now."

Mickey let out a relieved giggle.

"What was it then?"

Mickey looked over at Gallagher when he didn't immediately answer, he was looking at him unsurely, he seemed nervous, maybe even a little scared.

"It's not really a first date kind of story," he admitted.

Mickey nudged him with his shoulder, "Well, I've heard that you're not supposed to put out until the third date but here we are," he joked. "But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Gallagher smiled at him and took a deep breath. "I kinda gave up on dating a while back," he started, "I was in a few really crappy relationships with older men when I was younger. They took advantage of me but I couldn't see that at the time. And when my family tried to stop me from seeing the last one, Ned, I just ran away."

Mickey didn't rush him to continue when he fell silent. He knew how hard it could be to talk about bad times even long after they had passed.

"Now that I think back on it, I realize I that I was having an episode but then I just thought they didn't want me to be happy, I thought I was happy."

Mickey moved his hand to cover Gallagher's where he rested it on the bed between them.

"But the relationship didn't work out and he kicked me out. So I joined the army even though I was only seventeen, and then I ran away from the army and started working at the club. After that I was just hooking with random guys who would give me drugs and let me stay with them. That went on for about a year and them my sibling found me, I was in really bad shape and so they finally got me to come home."

He entwined his fingers with Mickey's and shrugged his shoulders. "And since then I've been struggling with my diagnosis and all that crap so I just thought, you know, to hell with it. Relationships never did me any good."

When it didn't seem like Gallagher was gonna say anything else, an uncomfortable feeling spread through Mickey body. He'd never expected to be anything other than bad news to the people around him but the thought of being a symptom of Gallagher backsliding into bad habits made his blood feel cold in his body. What had happened between them hadn't felt like a bad thing to him. It had felt like a gift.

"So lately I've limited myself to hook-ups; no dates, never spending the night, home in time for dinner." Gallagher finally continued, "but then I met you, and I thought that yeah, I could see myself bending you over." He shot Mickey a dirty smile. "But it would have been too complicated because we work at the same place and see each other every day in school and you turned out to be really nice and so fucking sweet."

Mickey snorted at the idea of him being nice and sweet, "Two words that have never been used to describe me before."

"But you are!" Gallagher put his head back on Mickey's shoulder. "And when you found out about my illness you hardly even batted an eye, so I thought that maybe you were worth taking a chance on."

Mickey didn't know what to say. It seemed unbelievable to him that someone who'd been through all that Gallagher had been through would choose him of all people to take the leap back into the dating world with. The things he touched had a habit of crumbling underneath his fingers. He had felt like he'd been given a chance since his dad got arrested, and now the things he had all these _things,_ that together made up a pretty decent life. And he was terrified of screwing up. But what had helped him handle everything so far–school, his job, running the house and now maybe Ian too–was how badly he wanted to succeed. He just wasn't sure how far he would get on mere willpower, but he would give it everything he had.

He hadn't realized that Ian had been waiting for him say something and was freaking out at the extended silence.

"Was it too much?" He lifted his head from Mickey's shoulder. "I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry I'm—"

Mickey interrupted him with a kiss and Ian went still. Mickey stroked his cheek and coaxed him closer. Then he mercifully opened his mouth and let Mickey in. They kissed deeply for a while and Mickey felt as if he maybe could make Ian's mouth his home.

"Mickey.." Ian said into Mickey's mouth and tried to pulled away.  

Mickey sighed, "Can't you just be quiet for a minute?"

Ian smiled. "I could try, but it would be a first."

"No kidding." Mickey bumped his nose against Ian's before covering his mouth with his own again.

 

He just had to not fuck this up.


	9. Author's note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there's anyone still out there waiting for me to post more chapters of CCB – I'm sorry but this isn't it.

First of all, THANK YOU <3 <3 <3 all of you who at one point or another have read this or left comment/kudos. Honestly, you're the best. But as you might have noticed, it's been awhile since I last wrote. I'm guessing many of you feel the same way about shameless these days as I do. My heart is just not in it anymore. I've spent years (!!!) thinking about this fic now and what the heck to do with it. I've made countless attempt at finishing it but without success. So sometime in the next few days I will be taking it down for good. So if any of you want to save it or whatever, that's fine by me. I'll probably take it down this thursday or friday (3-4 feb). I'll do the same with my one-shots if any of you have read them too.

So let me again just say thank you one last time for reading. It meant so much to me, you have no idea. I had so much fun with it, and having supportive readers like you guys made the ride so much sweeter. Many thanks and hugs XX


	10. Surprise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New interesting developments for this fic, not a new chapter - but instead I'm introducing a brand new author!

Thanks to a very helpful reader (*heart eyes*), who did some unexpected match making, this story won't be abandoned after all! The honorable Loftec will be taking over here at Green Growth Community College and will steer us towards the finishing line.

So again, thank you so much to all of you who have stuck with this story, to MinnieM1 who found my replacement, and of course to Loftec who I'm confident will do our boys justice.

Love <3

 

Note from loftec:

Hello all : )

I have officially taken over this fic from the original author with the intention to eventually finish it in line with their original vision. It may, however, be a while. I'm most likely going to focus on finishing some of my own WIP:s before this one. Until then, please enjoy the first part of this story and rest assured that one day it will be updated!

//


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